


To Rend With Claw and Fang

by itsfnickingawesomeness



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Adopted Children, Alternate Universe - Supernatural Elements, Based off of roleplay, Blood, Blood Drinking, Canon-Typical Violence, Explicit Sexual Content, M/M, Marriage, Sokovia Accords, Vampire Bucky Barnes, Werewolf Steve Rogers, a lot of this is so cheesy but i have no regrets, and then dissolves into a series of vignettes, each one a few months apart, siren natasha, this story starts off linear, vampire HYDRA, werewolf erskine
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-20
Updated: 2020-12-20
Packaged: 2021-03-11 03:09:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 28,669
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28118241
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/itsfnickingawesomeness/pseuds/itsfnickingawesomeness
Summary: Good morning, I'm Lisa Anneli with Channel 7 ABC News. In the wake of the devastating terrorist attack in DC two days ago, new data has surfaced from the massive SHIELD info dump that has sent the country scrambling for answers. HYDRA- known for decades as the Nazi science division that Captain America himself fought during World War II- is alive and well, and had been operating within the bowels of SHIELD for years unseen. Not only that, but it seems that HYDRA had many ties to the occult and the supernatural, using rituals and magic to create monsters such as vampires to further their cause. And the most surprising fact we've learned so far? The SSR, the origination of SHIELD itself, created a supernatural monster of their own to fight against HYDRA's experiments- a werewolf, named Steve Rogers. More tonight at 7 pm.Done for the 2020 Not Another Stucky Big Bang
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers
Comments: 12
Kudos: 68
Collections: Not Another Stucky Big Bang 2020





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hello, and welcome to my NASBB 2020 fic! This thing was definitely a self-indulgent labor of love, and maybe only I will enjoy it, but I hope you do as well. For a little bit of clarification: this story takes place after TWS. Same plot and series of events but... make it vampire/werewolf. Also sorry it's a little... time-skippy, I had far less time than I thought I would to work on this.
> 
> A HUGE thank you to my artists EmotionalSupportAssassin (tumblr, ao3) and MsPooslie (twitter, ao3, pooslie on tumblr), I am so thrilled to have artwork of my boys and they both did such an amazing job!! ESA drew the beginning banner, and MsPooslie drew the art of the boys in the snow <3  
> Also a big thanks to my beta Fancy H for making sense of my non-linear rambling and all of their awesome feedback!
> 
> Finally, I wanted to thank one of my good friends Adi, without whom this story would not exist. We've been RPing on Tumblr together for two years now and this entire story is based on our interactions. Both Rogers and Connor are 100% her characterization, as is much of the werewolf lore. She generously allowed me to borrow the characters to write a full-fledged story for our verse, and was an enormous, indispensable help and encouragement the whole way. These characters belong to her and she helped with a TON of the world-building and dialogue choices. She even inspired the title. 
> 
> If you love the wolf bois as much as I do, you can find Rogers @battlesthatmatter and Connor @bloodmoonphased on Tumblr. We have SO much more than I was able to give justice to here.

  
[Art by EmotionalSupportAssassin]

The hunger had been creeping up his throat for days now, burning and itching and setting his entire body to fidgeting. Bucky knew he’d left it too long, had just been too exhausted and too paranoid to leave the old apartment building in which he’d been hunkered down for countless days. He’d never gone longer than a few days without feeding with HYDRA- they always wanted their weapon at top performance- but now he was pushing a week. A week seemed to be the limit before he got too weak to be comfortable, before he got  _ desperate _ . Since escaping he seemed to need it more than he’d thought of as his baseline. Perhaps healing and recovering pieces of himself took more energy than he could provide. But he’d also been  _ pushing _ it off all the time, now hyper-aware of his actions, the consequences, what he  _ was _ . 

Bucky bit his lip, considering. While he  _ might _ have been able to last another day or two, there was no telling how desperate he would get. There was no telling how reckless, careless,  _ dangerous _ he would become. How feral. He’d gotten small glimpses of memory from his time as the Soldier- he never wanted to be that mindless predator again. Though he had a heavy feeling in his gut about going on a hunt on such short notice… what choice did he have? Slipping on yet another dark layer of clothing, he crept out of his safehouse, stealing quickly into the outside world.

Hunting was as conflicting as it was satisfying. Some deep, primal part of Bucky reveled in the act, identifying prey and following after them, getting what it so desperately wanted. It was easy to sink into that, to work on autopilot, to let his instincts guide him and satisfy the urges. Bucky worked hard to make sure he never completely lost himself. When he drank from someone, he never took too much. He muddled their mind so they would never quite remember the encounter, chalking the experience up to a drunken encounter in an alleyway. Working quickly and quietly, making sure the human was alright, cleaning up after himself- it helped his conscience as much as it ensured his safety. Not only from HYDRA, but from so-called Antis, who thought that supernatural creatures shouldn’t even exist at all. 

While finding one person and draining them would certainly make hunting easier, quicker, potentially more satisfying... Bucky could never bring himself to do it. Memories-- flashes of victims’ pale skin, their weakening pulse, clothes covered in splashes of deep crimson-- would converge on the vampire, enough to make him feel sick. No, just because he’d been turned into a monster didn’t mean he had to behave like one. So sure, feeding usually took all night, sometimes five or six people needed to assuage the burning in his chest, but it was all Bucky could do to calm the guilt that burned just as harshly. As he left his second donor of the night leaning groggily against the brick wall of a liquor store, Bucky took a steadying breath- purely psychological, seeing as he didn’t truly seem to need to breathe- and continued on his way. 

About an hour into the night, he felt something in the air change, a new smell on the wind, something menacing that made every nerve in his body give a danger signal. After pausing for a moment, Bucky quickly turned and changed directions, but the scent just seemed to follow him, faint enough that he was having a hard time identifying it. Whatever it was, it wasn’t human, that was for sure. It was accompanied by the very faint sound of footsteps, even and unhurried. For all he knew, it was a friendly being, or it wasn’t even interested in Bucky at all. However Bucky hadn’t survived this long on his own by taking chances, so he continued power-walking through the darkened streets, trying to lose whoever was following him.

As he walked quickly through the streets, black hood up over his head and arms crossed tight, he went over his tactical options.  _ One, stay and fight whatever’s following you, even though you’re not in top shape right now. Two, speed away and try to lose them in the night, even though you might draw attention to yourself. Three, keep pretending like nothing is wrong, even though you might lead them back to your safehouse. _ It really was a lose- lose- lose situation, but Bucky knew he’d taken a chance by hunting without all of his usual safeguards in place. Now he’d have to deal with it.

As a wind suddenly blew from behind, the scent became clearer, and it took all Bucky had in him not to freeze where he stood. A fucking  _ werewolf _ had found him. The mutt was probably tracking him by smell alone. ‘ _ Of all the goddamn supernatural creatures—' _

It wasn't that Bucky was scared of them- most of the ones he had come across simply kept their distance, aloof but not cruel. There were the exceptions, though. He'd had to deal with more than a few rabid ones in Hydra, and as weak as he was from hunger, he wasn't sure if he was up to fighting one right now. No matter how much he picked up the pace, the threatening smell always stayed too close behind him. "Fuck, fuck,  _ fuck _ ," he muttered to himself, head down as he zig-zagged through alleyways and streets at random. Another five minutes passed, then ten, and Bucky was no closer to losing the wolf than before. Taking a deep breath, Bucky made a decision, one he hoped he wouldn't regret.

Perhaps being in an open space would make the wolf less likely to fully attack. Stepping out into an wide square, where a market would be come the weekend morning, he stopped and turned around, fists clenched in his pockets, as ready as he could be. "Stop playing, just show your damn face already!" he yelled, hoping against hope this was a friendly wolf, and not one out for blood thanks to the age-old feud.

Moments passed, and Bucky was sure that were his heart still active, it would have been pounding with adrenaline. His ears picked up the slightest rustle of cloth, the soft tap of feet on the sidewalk, a heartbeat that was slower than most humans’ but many times stronger. Right as Bucky felt he was about to snap from the tension the wolf stepped into view, and the unused air in his lungs punched out of him in a shocked exhale. Before him, looking scruffier and more tired than the last time they crossed paths, was Rogers.

The way they stood across from one another, tense and ready for violence, flashed through his mind, a near mirror of the catwalk on the Helicarrier all those months ago. It had Bucky blinking hard, trying to dispel the scent of jet fuel and the feel of the tight leather vest wrapped around his torso, to keep himself grounded on this empty street in the middle of a sleeping city. Now was not the time to lose track of where he was.

He swallowed thickly, automatically wiping at his mouth even though he knew he had already cleaned any blood off of himself. Of  _ course _ the werewolf who was stalking him was Rogers; the only werewolf he’d met since leaving HYDRA was bound to show up again. Especially one as fucking stubborn as Rogers. The two men stared at each other for a long moment, neither one brave enough to break the silence. Too much history, too many feelings, too many uncertainties. Bucky absurdly felt like prey, cornered and twitchy. 

"You alright, Buck?" Predictably, Rogers was the first one to speak. He spoke softly, sounding like he actually cared.

Bucky nodded hesitantly. He still didn't know why Rogers was here. He could have been hunting down HYDRA loose ends and decided Bucky was one, SHIELD could have sent him to lure Bucky in, maybe the wolf in Rogers just knew that Bucky was an enemy.... And yet despite all of that, Bucky felt the tension leeching just a bit from his shoulders. Since coming back to himself, after pulling his Target from the river, a hell of a lot had gone through his mind, and Rogers had been a large chunk of it. Whatever else, Bucky  _ knew  _ him.

If Rogers expected anything more from the vampire, he did a fair job of hiding it, simply nodding back. Bucky took a moment to examine him closer- it looked like Rogers hadn't gotten any sleep during the year and a half since the incident in DC. He was less groomed than he normally was, hair creeping past his ears and stubble on his cheeks. It made something pang deep in Bucky, something old and forgotten. It had been a long time since he'd had to- since he'd been  _ able _ to- care about someone.

Another few minutes of silence stretched between them, Rogers seemingly worried about spooking Bucky while the vampire just didn't know what to say. While a lot of Bucky’s wandering thoughts over the past year had centered around Rogers and their past together, it wasn’t like Bucky had any idea how to communicate with the man anymore. Whatever bond they’d had, HYDRA had buried it so deep Bucky still didn’t know what to call it. Finally, after he couldn't take it anymore, Bucky blurted, "Are you here to kill me? Or take me in?"

Rogers winced, hunching his shoulders slightly as he shook his head. "No, Bucky. I wouldn't do that. I know that none of it was your fault. You didn't have a choice." He sounded annoyingly sincere.

“But I still did it,” Bucky challenged, voice not as strong as he’d have liked it to be. His emotions were all over the place, and he was so easily overwhelmed these days, unable to make sense of half the mess that went through his head even on his best days. It didn’t help that some primal part of his brain was insisting that the werewolf was here to kill him, while some small part of his long-dead heart was telling him to just  _ trust _ the man in front of him.

Maybe Rogers could sense Bucky’s growing distress, or perhaps Rogers was feeling similarly. His voice was a little less steady this time, vibrating with anger. “I know what HYDRA did to you. Well, some of it. It wasn’t your  _ fault _ . I want to help."

Bucky flinched back, anger and shame and fear creeping through him. God, of all the people to have to hear that shit, Rogers would have been the last person in the world Bucky would have picked. To see him at his weakest, his most feral, his absolute lowest points. Unable to hold back a snarl Bucky glared up at him, eyes probably shining crimson. It was easy for Rogers to say that- he hadn’t been the one to give in to the burning in his chest, desperate to end it, filled with an animal desperation to stay alive for just one more day. "It was  _ me _ , Rogers. Dozens murdered. Humans, supernaturals- everyone. I killed them, drank their blood, for  _ decades _ . They turned me into one of them. How am I any better than HYDRA?"

Now Rogers looked wounded, wearing all of his emotions plain to see. "Bucky, no. You were forced to do all of those things. You  _ survived _ . And when the time came... you didn't kill me. And from what it looks like, you ain’t killing anyone else, either." He gestured back towards the way they came, the clubs and the bars nearer to the center of the city. Bucky grit his teeth together. 

God, Rogers had reportedly always been one determined and optimistic bastard, but this was a new level. They’d spent the majority of their time during the war fighting against HYDRA and what they were doing, the things that they made, and here Bucky was, just another one of their creations. How could Rogers even stand to be near him? Why  _ wasn’t _ he trying to kill Bucky, following the unspoken instincts between their two species? The second that Rogers’s scent had hit Bucky he’d been on edge, ready for violence, yet Rogers looked as if he was on just another midnight stroll.

What the fuck did Rogers  _ want _ from him? The jarring feeling of missing a step as you’re walking just made him angrier. “How long have you been following me?” he spat, feeling cornered and trapped.

Rogers took another step closer, empty hands going up in a show of peace as Bucky snarled at him again. “I’ve been looking for you since DC,” he said. “You’re hard to find. But really, Buck, Romania? Sort of on the nose, isn’t it?” the blond said, lips twitching up into a smile.

The remark threw Bucky for a loop, and he blinked as some of his panic and aggravation faded slightly at the non-sequitur. It took a few moments for his muddled brain to make the connection, and he couldn’t help himself- he snorted. “Wrong part of the country, asshole.”

That caused the smirk to crack into a full-blown grin. “Close enough.” Rogers took another step forward, now close enough that he could reach out and touch Bucky’s shoulder if he really stretched. This close Bucky could hear the steady pounding of his heart, practically feel the strength of the emotions flowing off the werewolf. “Buck… come back with me.”

Bucky barked out a harsh laugh, once again unable to hold it back. “In case you hadn’t noticed, the entire  _ world _ wants me dead.” Governments, HYDRA- it didn’t matter. There was a reason why Bucky had never stayed in one place for more than a month. It was only a matter of time until his luck ran out- Rogers finding him was a clear example of that. 

“I can protect you. Things are… changing,” Rogers insisted, clenched jaw ticking. “With the evidence we have, we can prove you were innocent. No one in their right mind would convict you.”

“That’s not true and you know it,” Bucky retorted, managing to keep most of the bitterness out of his voice. “Besides… what about the  _ Accords _ ?” Even as deep in hiding as he was, Bucky had heard about the Supernatural Accords. Required registry and testing for all supernaturals, special anti-creature forces put together ‘just in case’ something went wrong, and every sort of control and tracking they could get their hands on. A movement started by the Antis and the religious extremists, but one quickly picked up by key leaders in governments worldwide.

Wincing, Rogers looked mildly guilty. Probably hoping Bucky hadn’t heard about them yet. “It’s… a work in progress. We’re fighting it.” His tone of voice told Bucky much more than his words did. Bucky couldn’t help but wonder what was the bigger motivating factor for the blond- Bucky’ safety, or Rogers’s own personal transformation.

Bucky scoffed. “Rogers, you can’t fight the entire world. It’s going to happen, sooner or later, and I’ll be the first one they come for.” He knew he couldn’t stay hidden forever; at this point he was just prolonging the inevitable. But like  _ hell _ would he make it easy for them.

Rogers bristled, looking truly angry for the first time that night. “I won’t let them. Nothing’s gonna happen to you Buck, not if I’m around to stop it.”

His blind determination softened something inside Bucky, and the vampire sagged slightly against the alley wall behind him. A mix of resignation and faint affection, let over from a bygone era. Sighing, he rubbed a hand across his face. “Rogers… I’m not worth all that.” It felt like he was fighting a losing battle- Rogers’s perpetual stubbornness was a hell of a force to go against.

“Yea, Buck, you are.” Just like that, like it was so simple.

Bucky let out a shaky breath. In reality, what choice did he have? Keep running, living in fear, on the knife’s edge… or hedge his bets with Rogers, the only person he could even  _ remember _ . If Bucky ran, Rogers would probably follow. And if someone else caught him before Rogers… well, his chances would probably be a whole lot worse without the wolf on his side, to say the least. Bucky wasn’t a betting man but at this point, this seemed to be his best shot. God did he hate the fact that his existence had narrowed down to  _ how do I push off death as long as possible? _

Finally, Bucky muttered, “Alright. Fine, I’ll come back with you.” He then winced as a flare in his throat reminded him that Rogers had interrupted him half way through his night. “But… I still need to… I didn’t finish….” He gestured towards his own neck, eyes skittering away from Rogers. The vampire didn’t want to see what expression Rogers wore as he figured it out. It only took a moment.

“Oh… yea… go ahead,” Rogers said, a little stiff. “I have a jet parked on top of the abandoned apartments on the west side.” Bucky nodded to show that he knew the building. “Just come there whenever you’re… done.” Any of the confidence of earlier was long gone, Rogers clearly having no idea how to handle the fucking elephant in the room. The wolf was obviously uneasy with the knowledge of what Bucky was doing, now that he had a closer view.

Swallowing thickly Bucky nodded again, short and sharp, before edging around Rogers and hurrying out of the square. It was just yet another reason why Rogers  _ shouldn’t  _ be doing any of this- Bucky was a parasite of the most literal definition. It wouldn’t be long before Rogers had had enough of him, became disgusted by him. The only question was how long Bucky’s period of ‘freedom’ would last.

* * *

The Tower was both everything and nothing like Bucky had been expecting. Everything was chrome and shiny, automated and electrical down to every last detail. Bucky wasn’t too proud to admit that he jumped a good foot in the air at the disembodied voice greeting him by name from the elevator- nor would he deny the way he got a little wide-eyed as Rogers informed him that Stark did, in fact, have a fully functioning robot supercomputer butler. “Holy cow,” he muttered under his breath, earning a chuckle from the wolf. 

Large windows framed their walk as they left the elevator, the blond leading the way. Dawn was just about to break over the horizon, and Bucky could see Rogers glancing at him out of the corner of his eye every few seconds. Bucky just barely resisted rolling his eyes. “I’m not gonna turn into dust or stone,” he huffed. “It just… burns if I stay out in it too long.” They continued walking down the long hallway, towards Rogers’ quarters, Bucky assumed. 

Rogers’ brow furrowed slightly. “Back in DC… that was in the middle of the day.”

Bucky’s laugh was as dry as the desert. “Why do you think I was basically covered head to toe? Besides, as long as I was functional, it’s not like HYDRA really cared if I got some burns or blisters.” That only made the blond’s brow furrow deeper, and Bucky was left feeling wrong-footed, like he so usually was in social situations now. “‘S fine, I just… mostly go out at night now. Wrap up if it’s sunny and I need to go somewhere. I can usually take about ten or fifteen minutes,” he muttered. 

The wolf nodded. “I’ll make sure the windows are blacked out in my suite,” Rogers said, mostly to himself. 

Swallowing thickly, Bucky didn’t respond. His head still felt like a whirlwind had run through it, emotions and memories scattered all over the place. Being this close to Rogers didn’t help- more memories, older and sweeter, kept trying to resurface, throwing the vampire’s equilibrium off all over again. The scent of werewolf- at first so nausea inducing, now coalescing into something Bucky was terrifyingly close to calling safety- reminded him of months spent huddling in tents in the Alps, neither of them feeling the cold as much as the others. The scent of  _ Steve _ , bright and warm and steady, bringing back even older flashes of memory. Fire escapes, shitty cabbage soup, hot and sticky sea-scented air. 

They reached a door at the end of the hall, Rogers flashing a keycard to unlock it. Bucky only had to take one step inside to know that this was where Rogers lived. Not only due to the smell- a combination of Rogers and the nose-wrinkling smell of wet dog Bucky had come to associate with werewolves- but the art on the wall and the mismatched, old, comfortable furniture. Rogers let Bucky wander for a bit, setting down his bag and then walking into the kitchen. A moment later, Rogers called, “Not sure if I should offer you coffee or not.”

Bucky huffed a laugh. “Don’t bother. I don’t really eat anything… human.” Which was, in Bucky’s opinion, one of the worst parts about what he was now- he couldn’t enjoy any of the foods he used to. It wouldn’t harm him, but it all tasted like ash in his mouth, and didn’t offer him any sort of nutrition or energy. Not like blood did. 

Rogers reappeared from the kitchen, a mug of coffee in hand. He looked somewhat wary, a mix between awkward and watchful. As if he had no idea what to do with Bucky now that he was here. As if he was still unsure of what Bucky would do or what he was capable of. The strained silence made Bucky want to escape out the nearest window- 50th floor or not. 

“So…” Rogers said, shifting to come towards the couch and collapse on it. “No sunlight, no human food. What else do I need to know about you?” Bucky blinked, frowning. Rogers chuckled, somewhat bitterly. “I don’t really know a lot about all the....” he trailed off, waving his hand, “the biology of it. The only fangers I run into are from HYDRA, and I usually just…” He trailed off with an aborted hand motion, looking awkward, and Bucky’s jaw clenched. 

HYDRA was full of vampires, from the head of the Coven down to all of the attempted serum-venom experiments like Bucky. It made sense that Rogers had never tried to  _ get to know them _ , considering he was usually preventing them from killing him. Or killing others. A small, fragile part of Bucky couldn’t help but wince at the fact that Rogers probably saw him as an enemy, would take him down in a heartbeat if needed. Another even smaller part of Bucky was glad for the insurance. It was almost a comfort to know that if he ever was out of control again… there was someone who could handle it.

Sighing, Bucky finally took a seat on a nearby armchair. “Well… it’s not like I’m an expert or anything. I didn’t exactly get a welcome brochure,” he said wryly. “But I can go about a week between, you know… feeding. I can go out in the sun but it just burns me pretty quickly. I don’t need to sleep or eat.” He shrugged, eyes firmly on the scattered notebooks covering the coffee table. It almost felt like he was spilling all of his dirty secrets to Rogers, all of the ways he was different and  _ wrong. _

“Can you still see your reflection? ‘Cause back in the day, you couldn’t go an hour without primping in front of a mirror like a fuckin’ cockatoo,” Rogers deadpanned.

It startled a laugh out of Bucky, eyes flicking back to the blond. “Yea, guess that was just a myth. Garlic, too.” Rogers flashed a crooked grin at him, before they fell back into silence. At least it was marginally less awkward than the last. After a moment, Bucky asked, “What about you? Does your team know? Where do you shift?”

Bucky remembered back in the war, Erskine’s transformation still fresh, when Rogers would disappear for two or three days into the forests, far enough away from the campsite that he wouldn’t chance coming upon them in wolf form. Or, on one memorable occasion, they had ventured into a HYDRA base the night before the full moon. That had been a particularly easy, if bloody, victory. He couldn’t imagine a shifted werewolf running around this skyscraper suite. But Bucky had never seen the shift, had never been allowed close enough. Of course he was a little more breakable back then. 

“I’ve got a place upstate, the Farm,” Rogers replied into his coffee mug. “Secluded, untraceable. I go there when I’m not needed here at the Tower. It’s… nice. Peaceful.”

Rogers didn’t look at peace. He looked tired, worn down, his slight scruffiness and the frown lines on his face more apparent in the light of the apartment. Bucky fidgeted, once again feeling uncomfortably unaware of how to fucking  _ talk _ to the man. If his memories were correct (which was a gamble in and of itself), they were once the closest of friends. Maybe even more than that- though Bucky certainly wasn’t going to broach that topic any time soon. A lifetime ago, interaction with Rogers came as easy as breathing. Now Bucky had no idea what to say, how to ask, where to start.

“What happened?” he blurted, wincing almost immediately. Rogers looked up at him, one eyebrow raised. “I mean… how did you get here?” Bucky gestured vaguely, in an attempt to encapsulate what he meant. To the tower, to the year 2015, to being a werewolf on a team of superheroes. 

There wasn’t an answer right away. Rogers huffed, still looking down into his coffee like it held the secrets of the universe in it. Bucky waited, chewing on his lip. “Well, you probably already heard about what I did after you...” the wolf trailed off, a somewhat bitter smile on his face. Bucky nodded- the first thing he’d done was go to that ridiculous museum exhibit. It still sent a thrum of hurt through him, the thought of Rogers putting himself into the ice like that. “I don’t remember what happened after the crash. I was more wolf than human, living off the land and just  _ running _ , from everything, and apparently was there for about seventy years.” His tone was mild, as if this was just another day in the life for him. “Got picked up by a research team and they brought me back here. Gave them a hell of a shock when I woke up and shifted back.”

Bucky nodded, a slight smile flashing across his face. He could only imagine. But the thought of Rogers, half out of his mind and running desperately as a wolf, alone, for  _ seventy years _ brought a fierce ache to his chest.

Rogers sighed, shifting to get more comfortable in his seat. “So I worked with the Avengers for a while, still technically do, I guess. We kept the wolf thing a secret- a couple of the other guys are supernaturals too. We kept  _ everything  _ that we did on the supernatural front quiet; no use scaring the public. After DC the whole thing was blown wide open. Been a PR nightmare. But I’ve been more hands off anyway, doing more personal missions.”  _ Searching for you _ , Bucky heard between the lines. “But now with the Accords, what with half the team willing to sign them….” He grimaced, lip curling ever so slightly. “Thinkin’ of getting out for good.”

It was a lot to process, and Bucky was silent for a moment. The fact that some of the Avengers weren’t simple humans… well, it was probably a good thing that Bucky (and by extension HYDRA) hadn’t known that. “What would you do?” Bucky asked quietly. He couldn’t imagine a world where Steve Rogers simply sat out the fighting.

“Well, there’s still plenty of HYDRA bases hidden around. That’s mostly what I’ve been doing,” Rogers replied. “Making sure those fuckers stay gone.” His eyes drifted towards Bucky’s. “I don’t want them to hurt anyone else.”   
  


The moment was suddenly a little too charged for Bucky, and he looked away again, clearing his throat. He felt twitchy, not quite safe, even if this was probably the most secure and armored building in the country. Another thought came to him, unpleasant as it was. “How, uh- what should I do about… feeding?” Bucky asked hesitantly, barely holding back a wince as he looked over at Rogers. The brunet had tried to come to terms with what he had to do to survive but it was likely still new and disconcerting for Rogers. 

Slowly letting out a breath, Rogers rested his hands on his thighs, fingers digging in slightly. “It’s… too dangerous, for you to go around in the middle of New York. Even at night. I thought maybe… would blood bags be okay? Until we figure out a better solution.” Rogers was trying, but it was eminently clear that the thought of sucking down blood bags like a juice box discomfited him. Or maybe it was the blood in general.

Either way... bags of cold blood would  _ not  _ have been Bucky’s first option, but he understood the reasoning. He had no idea if it would be any different than fresh but what choice did he have? It wasn’t like he could go hunting  _ inside _ the Tower, either. “Yea, should be alright. Probably had worse with HYDRA anyway,” he said dryly. This time Rogers did wince, mouth curling just a bit. “Sorry,” Bucky said reflexively.

“No, it’s- it’s fine,” Rogers replied. “I don’t want you to… feel bad about needing it, or anything. It’s just… the way that vampires feed. It’s always freaked me out a bit. I’ve always seen it as, you know, an attack. I’ve just gotta get used to it.  _ I’m _ sorry.” 

Bucky nodded hesitantly. “It’s okay, I understand. It’s… a lot.” Rogers gave him a small smile, sipping at his coffee again. Shifting slightly on his chair, “So… what happens next?” Bucky then asked.

With a sigh, Rogers let his head fall back against the couch. “Well, I figured we would stay here for just a bit while we figure out what to do. We need to start organizing our case, making sure no one can come for you. I need to head back to the Farm in a couple weeks, and I’d rather be able to leave you here while I do.”

Frowning, the vampire replied, “Does your team know I’m here? Are they  _ okay _ with that?” 

Rogers wiggled his head back and forth. “They probably know you’re here by now. Stark can never keep his mouth shut. If any of them have a problem with it, they can talk to me.” 

Typical Rogers- act first, talk later. Bucky shook his head minutely, amusement creeping in on the edges of the anxiety that had been flooding him all day. All of a sudden Rogers gave a jaw-cracking yawn despite the coffee he’d just inhaled. “You need some rest,” Bucky pointed out.

Waving it off the blond responded, “I’m fine, Buck.”

“No, seriously. I’ll be fine on my own for a bit. Go sleep,” Bucky said with more confidence than he felt.

After studying him for a moment, Rogers scrubbed at his face and conceded with a short nod. “Fine. Let me at least show you your room.” With that he stood up and led Bucky down the short hallway past the kitchen, and pointed to a room on the right. “You can use this one. Mine’s the last on the left. Wake me up if anything changes,” Rogers ordered, and Bucky nodded dutifully.

“‘Night,” Bucky replied automatically, before snorting softly at the mistake. 

“Maybe for you,” Rogers shot back with a grin. “Rest while you can.”

With that the wolf retreated to his own room, and Bucky entered his own. It was simple and clean, clearly hardly used. The only decoration was a small wall clock, and a book someone had left on the nightstand. He settled gently on the bed, staring at the wall for a moment.  _ What the hell did I get myself into?  _ With a somewhat shaky sigh, he sank back to lie down on the bed, eyes now on the blank ceiling.  _ This is a terrible idea _ . There was no way this would end without some sort of disaster, with his luck; all Bucky had to do was wait.

* * *

It didn't take long for someone to come see the newest addition to the Tower. Stark swanned through the door like he owned the place- which, Bucky realized, he  _ did-  _ and took a seat on the couch. "So, when were you gonna introduce me to your buddy?" he asked Rogers, staring all the while at Bucky who was hovering on the other side of the room.

"Whenever we were settled," Rogers deadpanned, not taking his eyes off the paper in his hands.

Stark scoffed, relaxing back and making himself comfortable. "It's already been three days. I know you guys are old but, c'mon, even you've got to admit that's taking forever."

Rogers didn't respond, the tension subtly but surely growing in the air. Stark rolled his eyes, finally turning his attention to Bucky. "So, Barnes. Didn't expect to see you out and about, you know, during the day."

Clenching his jaw, Bucky responded evenly, "I guess you're only an expert when it comes to tech, then." 

Stark had the opposite reaction than Bucky had expected- he snickered, looking incredibly amused. "Ooh, he's got sass. I like him." Perhaps only a supernatural like Bucky would have seen the subtle clench in Rogers' jaw as the wolf continued to ignore Stark. "How long are you staying this time? Full moon's only, what, two and a half weeks away?"

He seemed to be taunting Rogers, pressing buttons in hope for a response, not completely unlike a child waiting for attention. Rogers sighed, eyes cutting across to the other man. "Not sure yet. We have to wait and see what's happening with the Accords. Considering, you know, your boss wants Bucky in chains."

Bucky looked back and forth between the other two like he was watching a tennis game, only with heavier stakes and even less of an idea of what was going on.

Stark stiffened, looking ill at ease for the first time since entering. "First of all, not my boss. Second of all, I know they're not perfect but-"

"But nothing, Tony," Rogers ground out. "It's not right and you know it. And as long as you're willing to compromise on something like that, I don't see why you're even in here."

The anger was almost palpable between them, and Bucky had no idea what the hell to do. He still didn't know everything about the accords, only snippets in the news and what Rogers had told him so far. Rogers had said that half the team was willing to sign them... and it appeared Tony was first in line. 

With a clenched jaw and an even stiffer posture, Tony abruptly stood up. "If you weren't so damn stubborn you'd see that this is the only way forward, for all of us."

"Tell that to Wanda when she's got a tracking device shot into her neck," Rogers retorted, voice deceptively mild. 

With an angry scoff Tony turned and stormed out of the quarters just as quickly as he'd entered minutes ago. Bucky felt the tension drain out of him like a popped balloon, and he turned questioning eyes onto the werewolf. Rogers sighed, dropping the newspaper and roughly scrubbing his hands over his face. "We don't exactly see eye to eye on the Accords, if you couldn't tell," he said dryly.

Bucky gave an equally wry laugh, settling hesitantly on the armchair next to Rogers. "Yea, no shit." 

Rogers gave him a small grin that only lasted a moment. "He's not supernatural, so I don't think he completely understands. As long as something like this is even an option, we won't ever be the same. Doesn't matter how much they amend it." 

A moment passed, and Bucky couldn't help but ask the nagging question. "Do you think they're gonna be passed?"

Rogers' head fell against the back of the chair as he slowly exhaled. "Honestly... it's a good possibility. A lot of countries have already agreed, as well as almost all of the government here."

"What'll happen then?"

"I don't know," Rogers admitted. "They say nothing, that there will just be an official registry somewhere. But I don't believe that for a second." Bucky nodded- things were rarely that simple. "And if they come after you...." Rogers trailed off, shaking his head, jaw tight.

Yet again Bucky felt thrown off by the dedication to him. It was so foreign, so confounding, so overwhelming. "Rogers-"

The wolf cut him off with a sharp hand gesture. "Look, it's not good for me, either. Let's just say I'm not their favorite person after last year."

Bucky swallowed sharply, sagging back into the armchair, head in his hand. "So what are we gonna do?" God, he was so tired of running and fighting. 

Rogers looked over at him, face soft, as if he could see the exhaustion weighing down on the vampire. "Don't worry, Buck. I'll figure it out."

* * *

A mere week later, and they had their final answer on the accords. With a large United Nations meeting held in Berlin, the First Supernatural Accords were ratified into law. Rogers hadn't gone, obviously, and he and Bucky watched in tense silence from the Tower. They hardly spoke the whole day, though Bucky could practically feel the righteous anger coming off of the blond as he paced. 

No one had mentioned Bucky in particular, but one of the sections that had been emphasized during the meeting was on punishment for supernatural beings that committed crimes, especially against humans. Bucky winced and turned away from the screen, digging his nails into his palms. 

The worst part was, he didn't even disagree with them. He had done so much bad, why should he get to be free, abstain from punishment? Why would he be able to skip recompense for the things he'd done, the people he'd killed, when it didn't work that way for anyone else? The sick feeling thrummed under his skin, but any time he'd even mentioned it to Rogers over the past week and a half the other man had shut him down completely. Rogers just didn't *understand*. He didn't have the blood on his hands that Bucky did.

The vampire was brought out of his brooding by the sound of Rogers growling lowly to himself. "We're leaving," he stated suddenly. 

Bucky raised his eyebrows. "What?"

Rogers shifted impatiently, like they were late, or like he was already tired of explaining. "We're not staying here, like sitting ducks. It's only a matter of time before they try to arrest you, and maybe me too. So- we're going."

There was a tense moment where the two just looked at each other, Rogers waiting for Bucky to agree, Bucky rapidly trying to think it through more than Rogers had. He wasn't wrong- the government most likely knew exactly where they were, or they would soon enough if they asked the right people. And while the Tower was secure, it wouldn't do jackshit if Tony let them come. Bucky was tired of running, yes, but what choice did he have? Where else did he have to go besides with Rogers? Who else did he have to trust? It didn't matter where they were going. 

Finally, he gave a short nod, and the two jumped into action. They hastily threw bags together, luckily neither of them having much of value to begin with. It was the middle of the night, up late due to the time difference from the conference, so there were few people in the Tower to begin with. Steve led Bucky up through countless floors, avoiding the common areas and the elevators. They were near noiseless as they walked, Bucky not even breathing, and yet someone still managed to find them.

“Where are you boys off to so late?” The smooth murmur made Bucky jump, whirling around to see- oh, of fucking course. He should have known. Natalia- Natasha?- was standing there, hair bright even in the dim lighting, perfectly manicured eyebrow raised. The two stared at each other, but perhaps only Bucky felt the icy tension; Natasha looked unaffected. 

It was Rogers who answered her. “We’re leaving. It’s not safe here anymore.” 

Luminous green eyes darted over to the wolf, pupils contracting oddly before returning to normal. Bucky watched warily- he had no idea what other experiments HYDRA had gotten up to, let alone what they had done in the Red Room, but everything about the petite woman in front of them had his hackles raised. Natasha’s gaze returned to Bucky, giving him a once over, face betraying nothing. Another fraught moment passed before she finally spoke again. “You’re not wrong, Rogers. Someone’s gotta stay here, keep an eye and an ear out. Go, I won’t tell,” she said, jerking her head down the hall.

Rogers leaned in and gave her a quick one-armed hug which she returned with an amused air. “Stay safe, Nat,” he said earnestly, giving her shoulder a parting squeeze.

“You know me,” she said wryly, “never do.” Turning, she nodded once at Bucky. “Keep him out of his head.” The vampire nodded with wide eyes, unsure of what else to say. With a parting grin that showed teeth just a tad too sharp, Natasha seemed to melt into the shadows like she had never been there.

Bucky blinked, turning a gaze on Rogers that said  _ What the hell?  _ Rogers just huffed, shaking his head as he turned to continue down the hallway. As they went Bucky listened with all his might but no one else ever came close enough to bother them. Within minutes they were creeping into the garage, Rogers directing them towards a lone red pick up truck off towards the side. It was utterly unremarkable- a little beat up, a little dirty, but obviously in good running condition. Rogers pointedly ignored the raised eyebrow Bucky shot him.

"It’s an older model, no electronics in the engine," Rogers explained as they climbed in. "It’s my personal truck, so no one can install any sort of tracking or GPS on it." Bucky could metaphorically breathe a little easier now that they were out of the open, but he knew he wouldn't relax until they'd left the building behind completely. Maybe not even then. Rogers smoothly started the car and rolled it quietly out of the garage, hardly pressing on the gas pedal. 

As they exited the over-sized garage onto the main road- never empty in New York, even at ass o’clock in the morning- the silence that settled around them was a little less smothering. The vampire couldn’t help but gawk out the window, truly soaking in New York City for the first time since leaving HYDRA. In a way he was sad to be leaving it, since he’d always been a city boy at heart. But it wasn’t really an option anymore. A little paranoid of someone seeing his face, Bucky pulled sunglasses off of the visor and slipped them on, sending a tentative smile Rogers’ way as the other man snorted. 

The city slowly woke up around them as they quickly left the busy streets and headed north. They sat without speaking, trying to fall back into their old rapport, neither man truly fitting into it, but both willing to try.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry, I don't do slow-burn. Warning for blood and violence in this chapter.

The Farm was... not what Bucky had been expecting. It was isolated, as Rogers had said, standing alone on the edge of a dense forest. The house was one story, sprawled out in a loose rectangle, built mostly out of wood with a bit of brick work along the front. He spotted a motorcycle that almost definitely belonged to Steve parked in the dirt path out front, but otherwise the property was empty and silent. Rogers was likewise quiet as they approached the front porch, keys already in his hand.

"Not a fan of neighbors, huh?" Bucky pointed out dryly. It made perfect sense, of course- couldn’t exactly have Mr. Smith next door look over and get an eyeful of a giant ass werewolf. Or worse, have the giant ass werewolf get a mouthful of Mr. Smith. 

Rogers huffed. "Well, there's a... woman who lives a bit into the woods. Takes care of Blackie sometimes."

There were several questions that that remark raised, but, "Blackie?" Before Bucky had even finished his first question, a large shepherd dog bounded out of the now-open front door, right into Rogers' arms. Bucky was startled for a split second before a grin spread across his face. He shouldn't have been surprised, to be honest- the blond had always had a soft spot for any sort of fuzzy animal, dogs especially. It took a moment of Rogers cooing at the shaggy dog and Blackie panting happily before the dog noticed Bucky. He immediately stood stock still, eyes fixed on Bucky, tail no longer wagging. The vampire slowly raised his hands in supplication as the large animal's ears started to pin flat to his head.

That was, until Rogers gently scruffed Blackie, lightly shaking the beast of a dog. "Hey,  _ hey _ , easy. Bucky is a friend. Stand down." It took another moment before the hackles went down, but the dog's eyes didn't leave Bucky. He swallowed thickly, once again feeling horribly out of place. The dog probably just knew something was wrong with Bucky just by smell- not warm, not alive, not  _ right _ . It wasn't like Bucky had had all that much opportunity to hang out with animals so far while he'd been on the run but it was... disheartening. It hadn’t been something he’d realized he was missing. 

Rogers glanced back at Bucky, frowning ever so slightly. "It's fine, Buck. He's like this with everyone new," he said. Sure, because everyone that came over was a vampire, the thing werewolves hated most. Bucky just sighed and nodded, jerking his head forward to indicate to Rogers to lead the way in. As the pair walked into the house Blackie hung back to walk nearly directly between Rogers and Bucky, making his thoughts on the new situation very clear.

The inside of the house was cozy, a beaten couch sitting in front of the TV stand in the living room, the kitchen down to the left and a hallway to the right. Bucky drifted further into the room, just taking it all in. While it was more... rustic than he’d expected, it seemed... lived in. Comfortable. Simple, but it was all Rogers needed. He huffed amusedly as he saw an Xbox tucked away on the TV stand. Maybe not all rustic charm. Rogers walked ahead down the hall, most likely to drop bags off. Bucky hung around in the main room, still feeling awkward and unsure. Jesus, would he ever feel at ease around Rogers again?

Within moments the wolf was back. "I put your stuff in the guest room. No one's used it in a while, so it might be a bit dusty, but it’s comfortable." The vampire decided to ignore how sad that statement sounded.

"I think I'll survive a bit of dust," Bucky retorted, gratified by the small snort it earned him. It wasn’t like he’d really need to use the bed anyway. 

Rogers went into the kitchen, opened the fridge, and seemed to freeze for a moment. He then chuckled tiredly. "Was about to offer you something to eat or drink. Might take a bit getting used to that."

Giving the other man a rueful smile, Bucky said, "It's what your Ma drilled into you, might take a while to break the habit." It was meant to be a small joke, a way to say  _ don't worry about it _ . But the look Rogers sent the vampire made Bucky halt in place, wondering if he'd said something wrong. 

As he walked back into the living room, Blackie following attentively at his heels, Rogers asked, "You remember my ma?"

Right- he guessed they were having  _ this _ conversation. Rogers was asking about more than just Ma Rogers. Bucky fidgeted with the end of his sleeve, teeth sinking into his lip again. "Um... sort of. My memories are kind of- all over the place? I get flashes, sometimes, bits and pieces. Sometimes it's hard to tell if it's real or not. Most of it is--" 

He cut himself off with a hard swallow. Most of what had come back to him was HYDRA, whether it was due to the sheer number of years he'd been there, the fact that it was more recent, or just from how fucking traumatic the scenes were. For every sepia-toned memory of peace he got back, Bucky remembered at least 3 occasions that he'd do anything to  _ forget _ . But Rogers didn't have to hear that. Even so, Rogers seemed to already know what Bucky had stopped himself from saying.

"It's alright, Bucky. I'm not gonna force you. I was just...." he murmured, shaking his head slightly. "I just wanted to know how much you remember. But... you don't have to tell me." From the way the wolf looked, shoulders hunched and arm tense, he very much did want to know, wanted to keep asking until Bucky told him. But he wasn't going to push, Bucky believed that much. Which is why the vampire wanted to give him  _ something _ . 

Roughly scrubbing a hand over his face, Bucky sighed, furrowing his brow. "I remember... Brooklyn. Two dumbass kids. Really shitty dinners, less shitty days out. Your ma, my sisters...." He cleared his throat, getting rid of the thickness that had started to creep in. "None of it fully, none of it clearly, but it's there. I know that we were friends. Good friends." Bucky forced himself to stop rambling, unable to meet Rogers' eyes. 

"That's... already more than I had expected," the blond responded softly, looking at Bucky with that warm, soft look on his face  _ again _ . "And for what it’s worth, I still count you as my friend, Buck.”

At that Bucky’s head jerked up, unsure of what was showing on his face. He couldn’t even describe what was whirling through his chest. “But how?” he burst out, hands falling limply to his sides. “I’m a- we’re polar opposites now. We’re meant to destroy each other, even your fuckin’ dog knows that,” he continued bitterly. “HYDRA made sure of that. Don’t get me wrong, I appreciate your help, and the- the getaway. But I should leave.”

There was a moment of silence after his outburst, and Rogers simply folded his arms over his chest. “You done?” he asked, and Bucky barely resisted doing something embarrassing like hissing or snarling at him. “‘Cause that’s all bullshit. HYDRA did all that to you, but you’re still  _ Bucky _ . Yea, you smell like a fanger-” At that, Bucky couldn’t help but wince, just a little bit- “but you also still smell like you used to. Blackie will get used to you, it will just take time. It will take  _ you _ time.”

Bucky plucked at the end of his shirt, nearly chewing a hole through his lip. “I don’t even  _ remember  _ who I used to be,” he spat, though it came out far weaker than he had planned. “I’m not him. I won’t ever be.”

“I’m not the same either. We’ve both grown up, gotten old. We’ll figure it out, Buck.” The sincerity with which the blond spoke made Bucky want to throw something, put a fist through the wall, run away and never meet that soft blue gaze again. “For instance-” Rogers said, tone becoming more solemn. “The full moon is about six days away. Which means in a couple days, I’m going to go downstairs into the basement and lock myself in for most of the week.”

That brought Bucky up short and he brought his gaze back up to the blond’s. “Not just the one night?”

Rogers shrugged. “I get a little… twitchy the whole week, not just the night of the full moon. Not easy to be around. And I’d rather lock myself up too early than too late.” His eyes looked shuttered, shadowed with some sort of memory or experience.

“Did you…” Bucky trailed off, nearly whispering, a sinking feeling in his stomach.

There wasn’t an answer at first. Rogers’ next breath was slightly shaky as he looked away from the vampire. “It’s gotten better over the years, but it’s hard to control the wolf. There have been… a couple times when I got out. I don’t know what happened, don’t have any memory of it- just woke up the next morning somewhere else. I’m not sure I wanna know.”

Bucky nodded. God, he knew that all too well. The uncertainty was terrifying, though was it less terrifying than getting the confirmation that you did something terrible? Most of the time Bucky preferred to know, since holes in his memory scared him more than just about anything. But sometimes ignorance was truly bliss- up to a point.

“So you’re not the only one who’s done things they regret,” Rogers said firmly. “You just have to learn from it and get better.”

“When did you turn into a fortune cookie writer?” Bucky snarked, weak sarcasm to cover all of the words and feelings that were strewn about his chest that he couldn’t explain even if he wanted to. 

With a snort, Rogers responded, “Gotta pay the bills somehow. Now c’mon, let me give you the tour.”

* * *

The two settled into a pattern. During the day Rogers would run errands, occasionally meet with his pack, or work on his numerous, end-less, ever increasing projects around the Farm. Bucky had been surprised to find out what Rogers had been up to, teaching himself carpentry and electrical wiring. He’d already added one room onto the ranch-style house, and had plans for at least one more, as well as redoing the kitchen. Once Bucky started looking for it, the signs of constant tinkering and adjusting were clearly visible- tools lying in strange places, pencil marks scattered on all the walls, and a fine layer of dust on half of the house. 

Slowly but surely Blackie started to warm up to Bucky. It started with the vampire just tossing treats in the shepherd’s general direction, which were met with disdainful glares- even if the dog snatched them up seconds later anyway. Then Bucky tried to get Bucky to play fetch or tug of war with him, but that wasn’t too successful either. It took several nights of Rogers making Blackie sit next to the couch while Bucky was there to get the dog to relax around the vampire. Now at least Bucky could walk into a room without being tracked- it was progress, if slow progress. 

At night, Rogers would sleep sometimes, when he wasn’t being kept awake by one thing or another, be it insomnia or a book. Bucky tried to fill the time with reading, as Rogers had a decent collection, and the vampire had quickly figured out that the TV in the middle of the night was somehow even worse than daytime television. And of course, every few nights, Bucky would have to travel to the closest town- half an hour by driving- and carefully feed. It was nerve-wracking without the anonymity of a huge city, but the town was large enough that Bucky was able to at least keep his energy up. He and Rogers never spoke of it like it was the skeleton in their closet.

Bucky took it upon himself to do some cleaning around the house, since Rogers’ idea of organizing was straightening the piles of supplies on the floor in the back of the dining room. The vampire also took it upon himself to do more cooking. While Bucky couldn’t eat, Rogers had to, and it was almost a comfort to see that the blond’s cooking skills had not improved in the decades since they’d last been together. The pantry was full of rations and the freezer full of frozen meals, and the man was decent with cuts of meat, but anything else was most definitely a fire or poison hazard. 

“Honestly, how did you even survive all these years?” Bucky grumbled sarcastically as he stirred the pot of pasta before him on the stove. 

Rogers stuck his tongue out at him, because he was a mature adult, and Bucky flicked water back at him, because so was he. Over the days Bucky had been at the Farm they’d settled into… a tentative friendship. Bucky would cook food, Rogers would ask him his opinions on the architecture or decor of the new addition, or they would sit in silence each involved with their own task, still very aware of the other person. Rogers didn’t flinch at his cold skin, and Bucky got used to the smell of werewolf. Though Bucky still felt as if something else was waiting in the wings, he tried his hardest to relax when he could. Which was easier said than done.

The peace Bucky had managed to find during the quiet meal was effectively disturbed when Rogers announced, “I’m goin’ downstairs today. It might be better if you keep your distance this week.”

Bucky looked up, frowning. “Why? What if you need something?”

The wolf looked almost pained. “Buck… I don’t know what will happen if I smell you while I’m a wolf. I could hurt you, try to kill you.”

“You wouldn’t, though,” Bucky responded. Sure, the theoretical idea of having to fight off a full grown werewolf on the full moon sent a little shiver of fear down Bucky’s spine, but he was sure that Rogers would be able to handle it. He hadn’t shown a single sign of aggression yet, and Bucky had faith in him.

Rogers groaned quietly, hand coming up to roughly scrub at his face. “Bucky I’m serious. I can’t always control myself, and if I know there’s a f- a vampire outside, I might lose it. I’ve escaped before. I don’t want to hurt you.”

He certainly looked serious, worry lines deep on his forehead and real anxiety in his eyes. Bucky studied his face for a moment, indecision coursing through him, trying to find a middle ground. He just didn’t want Rogers to be alone. “What if I stay for now, and I’ll go out on the actual night of the full moon?”

Clenching his jaw, Rogers sighed, but Bucky just stared back at him. Bucky could be nearly as stubborn as the blond when he wanted to. “The night before and after, too,” Rogers countered. 

Though Bucky didn’t like it, he nodded. “Fine. I’ll keep my distance. But if anything seems wrong, I’m coming back.” He didn’t flinch at the look sent his way. “Everything will be fine, Rogers.” The blond didn’t seem convinced in the slightest.

Throughout the day Rogers only seemed to get more and more tense, and as the sun started to set he got up with a sigh. “Alright, I should go. Remember what we agreed on.”

Bucky made a face. “I still don’t like it.”

Roger shrugged, turning towards the stairs. “Tough. Keep Blackie up here, too.” As if the dog ever listened to Bucky anyway. 

Stubbornly, Bucky followed him down the steps. The blond rolled his eyes but didn’t comment. As Rogers flicked some switches on, Bucky got his first look at the basement. The door was heavily reinforced, made of thick metal and a silvery finish. Inside was filled with various pads and cushions, most of them half ripped apart, as well as various pieces of furniture and pieces of junk. Nearly everything had deep claw marks gouged in them or pieces broken off except for a few items which Bucky could only assume were new.

“Home sweet home,” Rogers remarked sarcastically. “But as long as it works, right?”

With a hum Bucky wiggled his hand back and forth. “Could use an interior decorator, but I’ve seen worse.”

Rogers snorted. “Thanks. Now c’mon, get out. I’ve got the door on a timer, so it’ll open once everything’s over.”

Sighing, Bucky said, “Fine. Just… good luck.” What was even the correct way to wish a werewolf a good transformation? He was going to worry about it no matter what. With a final look at Rogers, he left the room, wincing as the door shut and locked after him. 

The day crept by like molasses, Bucky having grown used to Rogers’ presence by now. It was startling to see how quickly he’d adapted to living with another person again but Bucky found himself missing Rogers’ random sarcastic jokes and grumpy complaints. Even Blackie seemed depressed, the dog tolerating Bucky’s presence as he lay down at the vampire’s feet, looking dolefully off into space. He tried to fill the day with tasks around the house, books, something on television- nothing distracted him for too long. Which was why he found himself back at the basement door before nightfall, settling down in the short hallway in front of it.

“What are you doing here Bucky?” Rogers asked, sounding resigned rather than angry. Well at least that was a start.

He blew out a breath. “I wanted to keep you company.” It wasn’t a complete lie, but it wasn’t the full truth either. 

Bucky heard a soft thud and he could only picture Rogers letting his head meet the wall. “I’m  _ fine _ . Nothin’ I haven’t done before.” The vampire stayed stubbornly silent, simply making himself comfortable leaning against the door. Rogers let out a soft growl but didn’t otherwise protest. 

A few moments passed as Bucky stared up at the ceiling. Starting conversations didn’t come easy to him these days, and he wasn’t sure what to talk about anyway. Rogers likely wouldn’t make any efforts to start one since he thought Bucky shouldn’t have been there anyway. "What does it feel like?" he finally asked through the door. His voice was a little hushed, as if asking about something taboo. 

There was silence for a moment and Bucky thought maybe Rogers would ignore him out of spite. "It's like... someone's doin' bad acupuncture. Tingling needles all over. And then when it starts, there's this red hot pain down to the bone, sort of like when you touch a hot burner. It's not bad on the full moon. Over in just a couple seconds."

Bucky frowned. It was a little difficult to imagine your entire body changing shape and size in a matter of seconds- he supposed it could have been worse. Then again, he could have sworn he’d seen Rogers in wolf form at times when the moon was only half or three-quarters full. "And other times?"

A sigh. "It can be pretty painful the further away it is from the full moon. During a new moon, I hardly have the energy to do big chores or maintenance, let alone shift. I can, I've had to in the past, but I usually avoid it."

Well, that was just another thing to watch out for then- making sure Rogers didn't do stupid shit like that too often. They descended into silence once more, and Bucky let his head fall back against the door. He wasn’t sure exactly when this drive to protect the other man had returned to his life so fully, but a part of him suspected it hadn’t truly left, just been buried and waiting it’s turn to be unearthed.

Another night passed like that, small snatches in conversation, Bucky sometimes reading out parts of the book he was reading. It was a science fiction one Rogers had picked him up in town, and while the wolf kept scoffing at all of the ridiculous plot twists, Bucky was rather enjoying it. And not just because the thought of Rogers seeing something in a store and thinking of Bucky brought a soft warmth to his chest.

Even in the basement, Bucky could tell when morning was peeking over the horizon, a vague notion of unease that always accompanied the sun rising. "You should go," Rogers announced abruptly, around eight in the morning. 

Biting his lip, Bucky countered, "But it's been fine this whole time."

There was a bite to Rogers' tone when he next spoke. "Yea, and the full moon is tomorrow. I don't know how I'll handle it. Bucky, you  _ said- _ "

"I know what I said," Bucky retorted, feeling frustrated and unable to explain his thoughts. "I just... you don't have to do this alone."

A heavy pause. "It's better this way, Buck."

He hissed in annoyance, shoving himself up from the ground. "I swear to god if I come back to you- I don't know- trapped in your own basement or unconscious or something, I'll kill you myself."

Rogers huffed a laugh. "Sure, sounds good."

Bucky stormed up the stairs, throwing himself onto the couch with a growl. He hadn't exactly  _ promised _ , per se, that he'd vacate the property. He was planning on going out to feed at some point, but otherwise he still wanted to be close by in case Rogers needed him. It was uncertain what that situation could actually be, but Bucky wasn't very good at behaving rationally when it came to Rogers. It bewildered and concerned him daily how easily Rogers could rattle him, how deeply Bucky would feel things around him. It took time to untwist all of the thorny tangles in his mind for meanings and explanations.

That day and night passed like molasses, ust like last time, and Bucky tried everything he could think of to pass the time. During the day he cleaned, made some extra food for Rogers’ inevitable post-shift feast, and tried to read more of his new book. Nothing could keep his attention for long. His mind kept going back to Rogers, locked by himself in a basement that was basically a cell, going through some sort of painful transformation. Everything that had first surged up inside Bucky as he stared at Rogers' bleeding face on the Helicarrier became violently loud. All Bucky wanted to do was go down and comfort the man... but that would only make it worse on Rogers. 

With a groan, Bucky forced himself off the couch and out of the house. He might as well make good use of this time and go feed, since he had little else to do. Going through the town he was even more careful than usual in order to take up more time. It took far longer to fill up when he only took a little bit here and there, and he had to take a little more time between people to find them, since he wasn't in the city any longer. Finally, in the very late night-slash-very early morning, he felt satisfied enough to return home. 

Once the Farm came back into view he paused. Rogers had told him to keep his distance but he hadn't specified where that had to be. How close could he come before Rogers smelled him? There was only one way to find out. Walking slowly across the yard he stopped on the porch right outside of the front door. He listened carefully through the wood but didn't hear anything out of the ordinary. Carefully Bucky pushed the front door open, footsteps light. For a moment there was nothing but continued silence, and Bucky wondered if maybe Rogers hadn't shifted yet--

From the basement came a deep, terrifying growl, and the sound of something banging against the metal door. Bucky jumped and froze in place. Great bursts of air as if something large was sniffing about were the only thing he heard for the next few moments. Next came a light scratching, sounding for all the world like a dog that wanted to go outside. A muted thud, like a huge body had dropped to the floor. After another minute with no more sound or warning signs, Bucky crept further into the house. 

Feeling as if he was walking on a live wire, Bucky moved closer to the basement stairs. He paused again at the top only to hear a muted rumbling-growl that was far less aggressive than the first one. Hoping that he wasn’t making a mistake Bucky descended the stairs. Once he was at the door he slowly crouched down and placed a hand on the door. “Rogers?”

A bone-deep  _ boof _ responded and Bucky couldn’t help but laugh. So much for a violent werewolf attack. “It’s Bucky. I’m sorry, I know you told me to stay away but… I wanted to check on you.” A soft groan came, and another muted thump against the door. Grinning fully now, Bucky settled down cross-legged in front of the door. “I’ll be sure to tell you ‘I told you so’ once this is all finished.”

The only answer to that was another growl, clearly of annoyance rather than rage. Bucky could deal with that. He settled in to talk, chatting about what he’d done, how despondent Blackie looked, even a few memories of some of their trips to Coney Island. Eventually he went and got his book and started reading aloud from it, ignoring the wolf’s clearly-skeptical huffs at certain parts. He clearly had no taste in fiction.

Occasionally he would hear the wolf get up and pad around the room before throwing himself at the furniture. The noise was tremendous as Rogers snapped and crushed and threw the items around. These bouts of restlessness never lasted more than an hour or so, during which Bucky would creep back upstairs to check on Blackie or just take a walk under the moon. He always came back, however, to the sound of grumbles and huffs, as if Rogers was annoyed with him for leaving in the first place. 

In total Rogers was shifted for just over 48 hours, and the morning after the full moon Bucky jolted as the metal door unlocked with a  _ thunk _ . He quickly stood up and backed away- just in case. But it was a perfectly human Rogers that stuck his head out of the door and Bucky grinned at him in greeting. “Can you hand me that duffle bag over there by the stairs?” Rogers asked. Bucky tossed it over and Rogers retreated back into the room with a rustle of clothing; a moment later he reappeared pulling a t-shirt on. Once he was dressed he came closer to Bucky and just stared at him. The relief at seeing Rogers back to his human shape faded into apprehension.

“What?” Bucky said defensively, lifting his chin in annoyance at the slight height difference between them.

Rogers crossed his arms. “I told you to stay away. Sitting right outside the door doesn’t really count as  _ staying away _ .”

Raising an eyebrow and crossing his arms right back, Bucky retorted, “Well, as you can see, everything was fine. Your wolf  _ loved  _ me.”

A muscle in the blond’s jaw twitched. “But you had no way of knowing that.”

Bucky scoffed. “You growled at me  _ once _ , when I first came in. Then it sounded like you were smelling for me- and then you turned into a giant german shepherd.” The vampire refused to be made into the villain of the situation.

Though he looked offended at the comparison, Rogers then grew thoughtful. “Maybe… even as a wolf I recognized your smell.”

Unsure of whether to be overwhelmed or flattered by that, Bucky cleared his throat. “Well… now we know. Even as a wolf you don’t mind having me around,” he said. Rogers only  _ hmph _ ed at that. After a moment Bucky added, “So… how was it?” Not that he knew what constituted a ‘good’ versus a ‘bad’ shift, but it felt only right to check in.

“Not too bad. I think I destroyed less of the furniture than I usually do,” Rogers said, glancing back at the room with a furrowed brow. “Were you… reading to me?”

Bucky shrugged, suddenly feeling a little exposed. He hadn’t thought Rogers would remember all of the details. “Yea, a little. I figured it was something to pass the time.”

Rogers stared at him intently for another few seconds, before shaking his head. “And you call  _ me _ reckless,” he muttered. He smirked at Bucky’s indignant noise before moving past him to climb up the stairs. “God, I’m starving. Always feel like I could eat a horse after a full moon.”

“Punks don’t get any of the food I made,” Bucky called after him, unable to hold back his grin. He felt too relieved to be truly annoyed. Some small part of him had been terrified that Rogers’ wolf would still recognize him as an enemy. As much as the blond could reassure Bucky that he had no problems with him whatsoever- it would take a while before Bucky could truly believe it. This had been a huge milestone, and Bucky felt metaphorically like he could breathe much easier.

* * *

The days after that first full moon ran just that tiny bit smoother. Rogers seemed less tense around Bucky, Bucky was less worried about driving Steve away, and even Blackie had seemed to come to some sort of truce concerning the vampire. He even let Bucky pat him on the head one morning which gave Bucky probably too much excitement, for which Rogers spent a good few minutes teasing him for. Bucky only rolled his eyes and shoved at the wolf, who shoved back. The physical contact was one of those things that Bucky hadn’t realized he had been missing so much until Rogers gave it to him so carelessly. In other words, life was going well, and Bucky tried to enjoy it while it lasted.

"We found another HYDRA base," Rogers announced three days after the full moon, apropos of nothing. 

Bucky glanced up from his book, an odd mix of curiosity and trepidation drifting through him. "Yea?" Rogers hadn’t actually gone on any missions since Bucky had come home with him, and Bucky wasn’t surprised that the cabin fever was starting to kick in. 

The blond nodded. "Tomorrow I'm gonna take some of the pack out to take care of it."

Setting down his book, Bucky turned more fully to face Rogers, sensing that more was coming. "Okay?" 

Rogers glanced down at the table before asking, "I wanted to see if you wanted to come with us." It took a moment for the offer to truly sink in, but Rogers was already speaking again. "You don't have to. We don't need you, we've taken down plenty of bases on our own. But, I wanted to give you the opportunity."

Bucky understood what Rogers was trying to say. He didn't want to force Bucky into another fight, but Rogers wanted to give Bucky the opportunity to have some sort of revenge enacted onto HYDRA. It was... somewhat sweet, in a way. Bucky didn't exactly feel pressured, Rogers wasn't demanding anything of him. And while Bucky certainly wasn't looking to run headfirst into any more fights... burning down a HYDRA nest full of rats might feel good. Just a bit. It was worth a try.

"Yea," he said slowly. "I'll come with you. It could be... fun."

The smile that Rogers sent him was sharp, full of promise for some sort of violence. It was a look that used to pick Bucky's heart rate up- both out of anxiety for the mayhem the blond would cause, and for the way it lit up those blue eyes with a devious light. Even without a heartbeat, it still had a similar effect on Bucky.

Reactions like that were becoming harder and harder to ignore. Rogers could send Bucky's thoughts haywire, even by doing simple things like sitting too close to Bucky on the couch, or brushing a casual hand on his shoulder as he walked down the hallway. The brunet tried to convince himself it was just odd to have someone touching him after so long without it, or after so long spent associating touch with pain. It was unnerving in the best-worst way possible. Especially because Bucky knew he wouldn't do anything about it. Couldn't.

It might have been due to the close proximity of the source of the memories, but more and more of them focused on Steve were coming back the longer Bucky stayed here. While he lay on his bed during the night, listening to the blond snore. While he read a book at the table, watching Rogers pore over yet another set of blueprints for his latest renovation project. Snippets of laughter, close-ups of a freckled face and bright blue eyes, the ghost of lips on his neck. Sometimes it sent Bucky out of the house completely to run through the woods, as if he could outrun the memories if he just went fast or far enough. So far it hadn't worked.

He came back out of his thoughts as Rogers started talking again. "It's not too far, over in Rhode Island, if you can believe it. Since you're coming, we'll wait 'til evening, just so you're not in the sun for so long."

Bucky nodded, a slight smile on his face. He and Rogers had made a good team once upon a time, and while Bucky was more than a little anxious to come face to face with HYDRA again, the face that he had Rogers at his back had a surprisingly large effect. The other man’s presence was as fortifying as it was calming, and Rogers had proven that he would protect him. It was something Bucky was still trying to get used to. “Will your… pack be okay with me joining?”

Rogers made a face that Bucky had come to learn meant _ I’m definitely making shit up as I go along _ . “Yea, I’ll tell them beforehand. It’ll be fine. I’m glad you’re coming with.” The vampire nodded, unconvinced. 

The next day they set out around noon, Rogers forcing Bucky into wearing a hoodie and carrying an  _ umbrella _ , of all things. “I look fucking ridiculous,” Bucky muttered, even though there was no one else around to see. 

“Well they don’t make SPF 1000 sunscreen, so this will have to work,” Rogers retorted.

Scoffing as he climbed into the truck, Bucky settled in for the long drive. “Yea well I wish they made better smelling dog shampoo for you to use, yet here we are.” Roger’s only response to that was a flick to Bucky’s ear as he started the car and put it in drive. 

The ride was mostly silent, occasionally broken up by pointing out animals on the road, or odd looking buildings. Bucky was becoming more and more anxious the closer they got. He had no idea what to expect from Rogers’ pack since he had never met any of the other werewolves before. To be honest, he was surprised that there were this many in the first place. He doubted the reception would be warm and fuzzy… but how bad would it be? He didn’t want to ruin this for Rogers, too. 

As they pulled the truck onto a little dirt path through the treeline, the small group became visible in a clearing. The pack was made up of about half a dozen wolves besides Rogers, and it was clear once they arrived that he was the one in charge. The men and women gathered around Rogers as soon as he exited the car, ready to go over the plan and get started with the run. However, predictably, every single one of them stiffened as they caught sight or smell of Bucky hopping out. More than a few growls filled the air.

Though he trusted Rogers, Bucky was going against every instinct in his body to keep walking calmly up to the pack of wolves. Rogers held up his hands, saying, "Guys, this is Bucky. I told you he'd be joining us today." Bucky let his arms hang relaxed at his sides, palms facing outwards.

"You didn't say he was a vampire," one of the others snarled.

Another growl filled the air- louder, deeper, and it sent a shiver through even Bucky’s spine. Rogers drew himself to his full height, looming over the werewolf who had spoken. "'Cause it doesn't fuckin' matter. He has more reason than any of us to hate HYDRA. He's coming with us, and if you have a problem with it, you can fuck off." 

Watching the situation with wide eyes, Bucky was torn between panic that he was already making things difficult for Rogers… and another completely inappropriate response to seeing Rogers act as alpha wolf. 

"How do we know he's not gonna turn on us the minute we walk in there?" the other wolf continued, teeth looking just a bit too sharp for his mouth. "Everyone knows all the leeches work for HYDRA-"

Quick as a whip Rogers lashed out, punching the other man so hard that he stumbled and dropped to his knees in the dirt. "Like I said, if you have a problem with Bucky, you can fuck. Off." He near growled the words, glaring at the rest of the pack like he was daring them to make a move. One or two of them muttered to one another, but no one made another comment. "Good. The plan stays the same, Bucky is just going to help with some of the data and information gathering." There were various nods and assenting noises, and Rogers nodded before leading the way.

The base was a good few miles away, as they had gathered far enough away that no one would hear them coming. As they walked through the forest the pack stayed mostly away from Bucky, though a few kept sending him curious looks. He refused to let him bother him, knowing that their mistrust wasn't unfounded. Hopefully by going on this raid with them he could earn some sort of trust- if only to make Rogers' life a little easier. It wasn't like Bucky was necessarily looking for new best friends. 

In just over an hour they reached the outer perimeter of the base. Bucky stopped along with the rest of the group, nearly all of them looking over at Rogers. "Alright, let's go," he ordered. He then turned to Bucky and murmured, "You should probably back up a little." 

Bucky nodded, eyes a little wide as he realized he was going to see Rogers shift for the first time. It wasn't the full moon, but it was close enough afterwards that hopefully it wouldn't be too painful for Rogers. He nearly choked on his tongue when the blond and the rest of the wolves started stripping off their clothes. It took him a moment to realize that it was probably to avoid shredding them, but it was a long moment during which he was understandably distracted. 

Once his clothes were kicked out of the way, Rogers took a deep breath, head falling back. He started trembling, just a slight shake at first, before his entire body seemed to twist in on itself. Limbs turned and his back elongated, thick fur sprouted, and he started to grow. Bucky looked on with barely concealed horror as Rogers grit his teeth through the transformation that seemed to last both ages and only seconds at once. Where Rogers once was now stood an enormous wolf, humanoid in the way he stood on two legs, but beast in everything else. He stood at least eight feet tall, with shaggy fur of mottled gray, brown, and black that faded to white on his limbs. Bucky could only stare at him in awe- it had been a lifetime since he saw Rogers' wolf form, and it wasn't any less amazing now.

Rogers glanced over at Bucky, eyes scanning his face for something. Perhaps to see his reaction to the shift. Well, they didn't have time to go into all of the vampire's thoughts, but he could at least soothe the concern. Bucky gave him a small smile and a nod. "Ready when you are, Rogers."

With a wolfy grin, Rogers let out a howl, and the pack ran forward as one towards the building. Bucky sped alongside them and felt the excitement in his own body as he did. He'd missed working as a unit, as a team, and there was no one he'd rather do this beside than Rogers. Within moments they were at the doors, a few well-timed slams enough to break them in. This late in the evening it seemed to be only a skeleton crew manning the place, and the first guards were easily overwhelmed.

The ferocity with which the wolves attacked was slightly frightening. Bucky took a moment to be glad that it wasn't him that was their target, and sped off towards the lower level. He listened and scented the air as he went, trying to detect any heartbeats before he ran into them. As he exited the stairway on the next floor down he ran into a scientist who clearly had been expecting nothing of the sort. Bucky was quick to attack with a grin, downing the man with a quick twist of his neck. He paused after a moment, almost waiting for the Soldier to rear its head and take him over, but nothing happened. He was still Bucky. The vampire let out an explosive breath and took a moment to compose himself. He could do this. 

He glanced down at the fallen man, wondering if he should take a moment to feed. It had been a few days by now and surely it wouldn’t hurt to keep his energy up in case anything went wrong during the rest of the mission. Scanning down the rest of the hallway and satisfied that he didn’t see anyone, Bucky crouched down next to the agent, propping him upright. Normally Bucky was careful and easy, not really wanting to hurt whoever he was drinking from. He couldn’t really find it in himself to feel bad about this one however. His fangs slid out and Bucky quickly clamped down on the man’s neck, the blood still warm after a mere minute. He drank his fill, keeping his eyes and ears open, and then let the scientist simply slump back down to the floor once he was down. Wiping his mouth on his sleeve Bucky stood up feeling alert and strong. At least HYDRA agents were good for something.

Bucky next went into the lab that the dead agent had come out of and poked around the computers, downloading all of the files he could find. It didn't take long- the base didn't seem to be as active, mostly serving as back-up if needed or as extra storage. Surely the wolves were nearly done- the place couldn't have had more than a dozen people in it. Once the data transfer was complete Bucky set about smashing the machines, throwing a few lit matches at the mess for good measure, and then hurried out of the room. He tilted his head to listen, and only heard the faint sounds of the wolves padding up and down the hall upstairs, the occasional bark or growl floating down to him. 

After taking a moment to clear the only other room on this level, another old storage room of unused equipment, Bucky bounded back up the stairs. He felt high on his success, knowing that he was partly responsible for destroying more of HYDRA, and knowing that he could still control himself even during a fight. It was near euphoric. It felt like he was one step further away from HYDRA and what they’d done to him.

The pack was hanging out in front of the building, most of them still in wolf form, including Rogers. He was staring intently at the door as if waiting for something- and relaxed his tense posture as Bucky exited the building. The wolf walked to meet him half-way and asked, “Are you okay?” His voice was deeper and more resonant like this, and the shape of his snout made the words sound awkward in his mouth, but it was undoubtedly Rogers.

“Everything went fine,” Bucky said, holding up the flash drive in demonstration. “Only ran into one person, and I took care of it.” 

Rogers’ eyes flicked towards Bucky’s mouth like he could see the evidence, but he only nodded. “Good. Proud of you, Buck.” The brunet couldn’t help but grin, flush on his success and the praise. Turning back to the other wolves, Rogers looked at them pointedly, waiting for something. It took a few moments, but the pack dipped their furry heads at Bucky, a few murmured  _ Thanks _ coming his way. It was more than he had been expecting, to be honest, and he awkwardly waved at them. 

With a hand wave from Rogers the wolves started to disperse, going off in ones and twos to gather their belongings in the trees and make the trek back to the meeting spot. Rogers jerked his head to bring Bucky along as he did the same. This time Bucky pointedly averted his eyes as Rogers shifted back, unsure if he would be able to handle seeing that a second time today. It was only once the rustling of clothing stopped and Rogers cleared his throat that Bucky turned back around.

“Seriously, ‘m proud of you Buck. I’m glad you were able to come along with us,” he said, reaching out and squeezing Bucky’s shoulder. 

“I’m glad I could help,” Bucky responded, a lopsided smile on his face. “Though I’m sure you would have done just fine without me.”

Rogers chuckled as they started walking back towards his truck. “Trust me, working the computers with claws is a nightmare. Much easier to just let you do it.” 

Snorting, Bucky said, “I bet. Well, as long as my opposable thumbs are a hot commodity, I’m here for you.” 

The smile Rogers sent his way was a little too soft for the conversation, but then again so was Bucky’s. He put it down to the happiness of being a team once more. Perhaps rejoining the fight wouldn’t be so bad after all. 

* * *

All went well until their third raid together. By now Bucky at least knew the names of all the wolves in Rogers’ pack, even if they weren’t all the best of friends yet. At least they’d stopped growling and stiffening up at the scent of him. They all made a good team- Bucky was usually able to sneak ahead and take out a guard or two, sometimes was even able to open up a door to let the wolves directly into the building. Afterwards, the pack did a lot of the manpower, and Bucky was on data duty. And if he sometimes stopped to give himself some energy on the scientists they’d cornered, well, he’d figured he’d earned that right by now.

This trip was all the same, so far, until Bucky entered the last lab on his own. It seemed empty, no sign of life inside, and so he stepped in to work on the computers, letting his guard down. A few moments after situating himself in front of the closest screen, there was a sudden clatter and a prick to his neck. Whirling around with a snarl Bucky came face to face with a leering guard, standing in front of a twitchy looking technician. The world wobbled dangerously and Bucky stumbled, dread filling him as the familiar, nauseating feeling of being drugged sludged through him. 

"N-no," he tried to protest, one leg buckling under him. 

"Good to know it still works," commented the technician, looking at the guard and jerking his head towards the vampire sinking to the floor. 

Bucky's enhanced strength was useless to him, limbs like rubber as the guard hauled him up onto the table at the back of the lab. His shirt was cut down the middle, scraps tossed aside, as they exposed his chest and neck. Mumbled protests and panicked words fell from his lips like clumsy grains of sand, and he felt as if he were trudging through quicksand in order to make his body do anything. The guard strapped him onto the table, metal cuff cinching tight over his left wrist. 

The technician appeared in his eyeline, looking much less nervous and a lot more maniacal now that Bucky was secured. "Awfully brave of you, Soldier, to come back here. We'd wondered what had become of you. And when we heard you’d joined in with a pack of  _ wolves _ …." He tutted. 

Squeezing his eyes shut the vampire tried to think, to plan, but it was hard to think with the chemicals and pure animal panic dulling his thoughts. Rogers would come for him. He had to. They were still here, somewhere. Eventually someone would realize he was missing. He just had to hold on long enough. 

"I'm not sure what went wrong in your programming, but I don't have the necessary equipment for that here," the scientist muttered, puttering around the room. "So we'll have to start off the old-fashioned way, teach you a lesson for defecting." 

A buzzing hum started up above him, and Bucky flinched, the sound sending him flashing through dozens, hundreds of times he'd heard it before. Even before the machine was fully primed the vampire was shaking, eyes still clamped shut, as if it wouldn't exist if he didn't see it. Unfortunately, that wasn't how the world worked, and seconds later he had to grit his teeth against a scream as the industrial strength UV light hit him. 

Bucky promised himself he wouldn't scream, wouldn't give them the satisfaction, wouldn't break down so easily. But the rays of light, so much closer and more concentrated than simply running a quick errand on a cloudy day, seared into his skin. He lasted less than a minute more before he let out a loud groan, teeth clenched so hard they might have cracked. The pain didn't go away, just built and built as it sank into his skin, and a shriek slipped out.

Seemingly unbothered, the technician fiddled with the dials. "Sometimes the classics are the best, are they not?" The guard, who had retreated to block the doorway, snickered. Bucky gasped for breath, chest heaving as it started to lightly steam, the skin appearing bright pink and angry. Soon it would start to blister and crack, oozing blood.

This had been a common punishment for many of the vampires, low effort and inescapable, affecting all of them from the weakest to the most powerful. While it may not have been the same scorching pain that ripped through his skull every time he was wiped, Bucky had rarely felt anything more powerful than the incinerating wavelength hitting his skin. He just hoped that if Rogers could hear him, he would come quickly. 

The light fizzled off, the scientist standing over by the switch. The brunet gasped, a low sound of pain escaping his throat. "Now, Asset, where do you belong?"

Bucky shook on the table, able to smell burned flesh but unable to force himself to look at the damage. "Up... your ass," he grit out, glaring at the ceiling.

The HYDRA agent tsked, hand returning to the control panel. "I wish I had the Halo here to wipe this foolish contempt from your mind, but needs must." He flipped the switch again, this time backing fully away from the panel and leaning against the wall in feigned relaxation. The second round hitting his skin seemed so much worse, no longer a constant searing pain but a fresh wave of blistering hot light onto already damaged skin. Bucky screamed, pulling against his restraints, unable to move his body out of the beam of the light. 

While vampires were not easy to kill, they absolutely could be burned to death in the sun. Bucky wasn't sure how long it would take in practice, but here, stuck under the lamp like a bug under a magnifying glass, he couldn't imagine he had long. Just when he'd thought he'd escaped HYDRA, they were there to remind him of who he really was, what he really deserved. He should have known.

Minutes, hours, days- he wasn't sure how long he stayed strapped on top of that table. He could vaguely hear the two agents muttering to one another, but their words sounded like gibberish underneath his shrieks of pain. Eventually, a new sound broke through- agonized screams that were not his own. Unable to turn to focus on the sound, too lost in the fire that swept through his torso, Bucky didn't know what was happening.

Suddenly, blissfully, the lamp above him turned off. He sagged against the metal table with a choked sound, laying absolutely still to minimize the movement of his singed skin. The next thing he was aware of was a warm hand on his forehead and he jerked away, moaning at the pain that zig-zagged through him. "Shh, shh, it's me Buck. It's Steve. You're okay, I'm here." Rogers' voice slowly registered in his mind, and the vampire forced his eyes open. 

"Steve...." he breathed, letting his head loll back against the table. "You came for me...."

"Of course," Rogers replied softly, already reaching to rip the restraints off of Bucky's legs and arms. "I won't leave you again."

Bucky hummed, losing the thread of conversation already. Between the pain and the drugs, he was very tempted to simply drift off, but didn't know if it was safe yet. Where had the technician gone? Was the pack alright? "Safe?" he managed to ask, brow furrowed. 

The last of the restraints gone, Bucky felt himself being picked up from the table, and then let out a yelp as the movement jostled every raw edge on his chest. "Sorry, sorry," Rogers mumbled. "Yea, we're safe. We're going home." 

That was the last coherent thing Bucky registered. Movement caused shocks of pain through him, soft rumbling voices sounded above his head, someone set him down on something soft, deep vibrations under his head tried to sooth him into true unconsciousness. He lost time then, unable to orient himself, and he vaguely hoped that he was truly safe now and not just hallucinating. At some point the rumbling under his head stopped and Bucky was aware of being moved again. All that left him at that point was weak moans at the dull burning spreading through his torso. He could hear someone shushing him, meaningless comforts coming in at random.

“It’s alright Buck, we’re home,” Rogers’ voice came from somewhere above him, and when he focused Bucky could indeed smell the familiar scents of their home around him. He was laid down onto a soft surface- Rogers’ bed, from the scent- and Rogers murmured about being right back. Bucky was only half paying attention, trying to let his mind pull away from the physical pain he was in without losing himself to memories. It would heal, he always did, but it would take time. Maybe even longer than normal, since he hadn’t fed in a few days. 

Things were slowly starting to come back into focus and Bucky forced his eyes back open. It took him a moment to clear his blurry vision, but eventually he could make out the details of Rogers’ bedroom, and hear Rogers himself coming back down the hallway. The pain was a sharp, aching wave that spread through most of his torso and Bucky hissed through his teeth as he tried (unsuccessfully) to find a position that didn’t make it worse. 

"Hey, stop moving," Rogers reprimanded him as he came into the room. Bucky just glared blearily at him, too exhausted to come up with a good comeback. "I got you this, to help," Rogers continued as he held up an opaque cup clearly full of some sort of thick liquid.

Bucky frowned at it, about to protest that any sort of medicine likely wouldn't help him, when the smell coming from the cup hit him. His eyes widened, bright red seeping into blue irises, glancing back up at Rogers. "Who's blood is that?" he rasped, startled.

"Mine," Rogers replied, jaw set. "I know it'll help you heal faster, and you probably needed some anyway. Just drink it."

He gaped at the wolf. Shaking his head as vigorously as he could with the energy he had, Bucky protested, "No. I'm fine. I don't- you shouldn't have-" His voice broke, worn out from screaming, throat starting to burn from the smell of blood so near. 

Rogers knelt on the bed, one hand gently gripping Bucky's chin to bring his face back towards him. "Well it's not like I can put it back in me now, is it? Drink it, Buck. I can't-" The blond broke off, swallowing. "I don't want to lose you, not again. Please."

Bucky trembled, thirst warring with his shame over doing this in front of Rogers. The other man had never actually seen Bucky feed, he’d made a special effort to avoid having him see it, and Bucky knew how much it creeped Rogers out. But the werewolf looked desperate, voice pleading but hand steady as he offered up his own blood. It was too much. Closing his eyes for just a moment, Bucky exhaled sharply and nodded. Rogers' shoulders slumped in relief, and he leaned forward to help Bucky raise up enough to drink. 

He found enough energy to at least hold the glass by himself, saving himself that little bit of dignity. Eyes fixed steadily on the wall across from him, Bucky slowly started to drink. It was far better than the bags he'd had to use before, and while it didn't settle his instinct like going directly after prey did, he could literally feel the blood energizing his body. He let out a small sound as it seemed to warm him from the inside out. It was different to anything else he'd ever tasted. Werewolf blood, apparently, was even more potent than human. The energy flowed through him faster, warmer, and he could nearly feel his skin starting the healing process.

It was over quickly, and Bucky blinked slowly at the now-empty cup, eyes flickering between it and Rogers. He didn't really want to, but he met Rogers' eyes, seeing nothing but concern there for Bucky. More than a little embarrassed, Bucky handed the cup back, gaze returning to fix on the wall. 

"Better?" Rogers asked, letting the vampire relax back against the pillow. 

Bucky nodded. "Yea. I... thank you. You didn't have to do that." His voice sounded stronger than before, throat no longer as ravaged.

With a shaky exhale, Rogers set aside the glass and settled on the edge of the bed. "Of course I did, Buck. You... seeing you on that table, screaming, I thought I was too late. I can't lose you again. Not when I just got you back." He wasn't looking at Bucky, hands fisted in the blanket beneath him, posture stiff and unhappy.

Feeling as if he were swallowing around a golf ball, Bucky slowly moved his hand to lay it over Rogers'. "I don't want to lose you either." It felt like they were on the edge of some great precipice, carefully balanced, one little gust of wind ready to blow them off onto either side.

Rogers slowly brought his eyes up to meet Bucky's, and whatever he saw must have told him what he needed to know. In a blink his free hand was cupping Bucky's head and his lips were gently pressing to Bucky's. The brunet inhaled sharply, shocked, but it only took a second or two to get with the program. Gripping Rogers' hand tightly he pressed harder into the kiss, ignoring the twinge in his chest, the soreness of his throat- everything that wasn't  _ them _ . Bucky’s foggy memories had nothing on the real thing, and heat seemed to wash through him even more than when he’d been drinking. 

An indeterminate amount of time later Rogers pulled back, hand sliding forward to rest against Bucky's cheek. "I've missed doing that," he murmured, eyes glowing. 

Bucky grinned back at him, leaning into his palm. "At first I didn't know if the memories were real, or if they were just... dreams," he said quietly. "And then I was scared that things were just... too different now."

"Nothin' could change the way I feel about you," Rogers replied. "Even if you do taste a little bloody." The smile on his face was slowly growing, and with it the bright and full feeling in Bucky's chest.

"For what it's worth, you tasted pretty good," Bucky said, voice faltering as his brain caught up with his mouth. 

After a split second Rogers burst into laughter, and he gently shoved at Bucky's face. "Maybe the creepiest compliment I’ve ever gotten, but thanks.”

Chuckling in relief Bucky let himself fall back onto the pillow, breathing easy for what felt like the first time in months. “Once I heal up a bit, we’re gonna have to do that again.”

Rogers hummed in agreement. “I definitely wouldn’t mind that. Or tasting other parts of you.” Bucky gasped in mock outrage, weakly hitting at Rogers’ side as the wolf snickered.

“Nasty,” Bucky scolded through his grin. “Now if you could stop being a horndog for one second, get in here and keep me company while I rest.”

It was only after another snicker, a mutter of ‘Horn  _ dog _ ’, and a mock salute that Rogers circled the bed to crawl into the other side. Bucky simply sighed, though he couldn’t protest once the oven-disguised-as-a-werewolf settled into his side. He regretted being unable to really cuddle into Rogers’ side, but hopefully within a few days he would be right as rain. For now, he simply wrapped his hand around Rogers’, thumb tracing circles on the other man’s, and wondered how the hell he got so lucky.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> https://facemypast.tumblr.com/post/186755159980/crowteeth-no-fucking-awoo-no-awoo-right-now
> 
> Connor is the sweetest baby okay. Warnings for blood, sexy times, and sometimes both at once.

Everything and nothing at all changed after they’d finally confessed. Their days were much the same, filled with bickering and quiet moments together alike. Rogers was a mother hen, to absolutely no one’s surprise, while Bucky was recovering from the HYDRA base. He even tried to offer more blood- which Bucky staunchly refused. He was almost completely healed within a couple of days with barely a scar to show for it. 

“Lucky,” Rogers said, running a hand gently over Bucky’s chest as they relaxed on the couch. “When I get hit with silver, it’s about the only thing that _can_ leave a scar.”

Frowning, Bucky asked, “Really?” 

The wolf sat back, lifting his long sleeve shirt off and tossing it to the side. “Burns like a bitch,” he remarked mildly. He pointed to some slashes on his arms, some jagged lines on his side, and even what looked like a bullet hole or two across his torso. “The silver gets in like an infection and it takes forever to clean it out.”

Bucky’s frown deepened, fingertips brushing against the stark white marks. “Jesus,” he said softly. “Did you get these from HYDRA raids?” He couldn’t think of very many others who would carry around weapons specifically made for werewolves. 

“Most of them. Some of ‘em were lucky shots from others,” he replied, watching Bucky trace the scars. 

“Well... be careful. I don’t want you to get too many more,” Bucky scolded, knowing it was most likely useless. The day Steve Rogers was careful was the day Bucky grew wings and started to fly. Rather tellingly, Rogers just hummed, not giving a straight answer, and not looking at Bucky’s unimpressed look he was giving the blond, either. Instead he leant in for a kiss, effectively distracting the vampire. He’d been doing that quite often over the past few days- not that Bucky was complaining. Especially now that he was healed completely and more than ready to take full advantage of it.

Deepening the kiss, he pulled Rogers more on top of him, hands sliding down the incredibly warm expanse of his skin. A small moan escaped his throat as Rogers nipped at his bottom lip, and he arched up into the werewolf. Rogers made quick work of Bucky’s shirt, and then they were both fumbling to strip off their pants, only breaking their kiss to toss clothing out of the way. One of Rogers’ hands slid up to cup Bucky’s head, fingers catching on the long strands of hair and tugging. The loud moan Bucky made only made the blond tug harder. Bucky quickly kissed the smug look off of Rogers’ face.

Despite being a little cramped on the couch, they managed to find several inventive ways to position themselves, and Bucky couldn’t find it in himself to truly care. He’d waited a literal lifetime to have Rogers back like this and he didn’t want to waste any more time. They must have spent hours wrapped up in each other, Rogers only drifting off late into the night as he relaxed against Bucky’s chest to ‘cool himself off’. Bucky didn’t mind at all and took the opportunity to rest himself and run his fingers through Rogers’ hair. 

As Bucky quickly came to find out, Rogers was unabashedly enthusiastic about sex, ready and raring to go at nearly any point in the day. Bucky wanted to blame it on being a werewolf but he wasn’t a hundred percent positive that was all of it. The sex was amazing, of course, between the enhanced strength and the fact that they had been separated for so many years combining for some spectacular times.

It was afterwards that Bucky perhaps liked even better, however. When Rogers would pull him into his chest and curl protectively around him, radiating body heat into Bucky's cooler skin, falling asleep with his head buried in Bucky's hair. It showed a level of trust Bucky hadn't experienced in a very long time and it was impossible not to be touched by it. He would lie there for hours, stroking Rogers' arm, almost unable to believe that this was real. 

Time passed in blissful starts and stops, broken up by the occasional HYDRA base raid or full moon, or Bucky disappearing for the night to feed. But he always got to come home to Rogers who hardly ever seemed to think about what Bucky had been out doing, not even a wince or a double glance when Bucky came back. It was a far cry from when they'd first come back together when the wolf could barely bring himself to talk to Bucky about it. 

Not only did it make Bucky feel just a little bit better about what he did, but it also made him a little bold. One day he started thinking about biting Rogers, specifically during sex, just a little- and afterwards he was unable to stop. He knew that vampires could make the feeding pleasurable if they wished, though he himself had never really had cause to do so beyond erasing any pain. He also knew that Rogers liked it rough, and seemed to like biting perfectly fine if the number of times he'd tried to leave marks and bruises all over Bucky himself was any indication. Now all he had to do was gather up the courage to actually ask.

He waited for the right moment, the right segue. It came one night as they lazily necked on the bed, Bucky sitting between Rogers’ thighs as they kissed, hands slipping up underneath his shirt. The brunet moaned softly at the scrape of teeth on his lip and then eagerly tipped his head to the side as Rogers kissed his way down Bucky’s jaw and neck. Sure enough he closed his teeth on the junction of Bucky’s neck and shoulder, sending a shudder down Bucky’s spine. Trying to pull himself together, almost regretting putting a pause on the proceedings, he sat back a bit, giving Rogers a quick kiss to soothe his confused expression. 

“So I know how much you like to bite...” Bucky started, gently grabbing Rogers’ wrist and bringing it up to press his lips to the inside. “How’d you like it if someone sank their teeth into you?” Opening his mouth just enough to let a fang graze the wolf’s skin, Bucky looked up through his lashes at Rogers, eyes dark.

He could hear Rogers’ heartbeat pick up, and Bucky wasn’t half sure his eyes didn’t flash red in automatic pleasured response. The wolf swallowed, watching Bucky, the moment stretching between them as the air practically vibrated with tension. “Not just _someone_ ,” Rogers said quietly, “Just you, it’ll be good if it’s you.”

The trust rocked through Bucky, love and lust sweeping through him equally. While he’d been fully prepared to back off if Rogers was still uneasy, the concept of being _allowed_ sent him flying. It wasn’t as if he needed this- he could get blood from anywhere, and the sex was already amazing with Rogers anyway. But _combining_ the two- well, Bucky was sure they could reach new heights together. And Rogers, at first so uneasy even being around Bucky and his blood drinking needs, was willingly letting Bucky do this to him. 

Bucky pressed a kiss to the wolf’s wrist, pushing down his own thirst for the moment. “Tell me to stop if it’s too much.” He waited until he got a nod from Rogers before turning his attention back to the rapid pulse under his finger tips. Ignoring the instinctual need to clamp down and _take_ , Bucky gently closed his mouth around Rogers wrist and sunk his fangs in. The other man tensed- until Bucky made eye contact and flicked his tongue across the small wounds. The breath left Rogers in a shaky rush and he nodded again, pupils blown. 

With a small moan Bucky started to drink, the taste just as good as he remembered. Rogers was letting out small pleased noises, hips shifting in place, free hand digging into Bucky’s shoulder. Bucky didn’t take too much- he didn’t necessarily need to feed, and he didn’t want Rogers to get light-headed or dizzy- but he drank enough to feel the warmth pulse through him, cheeks slightly flushed and eyes shining red. “Feel good, sugar?” he asked, pulling away and running his tongue over his lips.

In response Rogers cupped the back of Bucky’s head and pulled him up to meet his mouth, groaning into the kiss as he practically pulled Bucky up onto his lap. The brunet eagerly complied, hands coming up to dig into Rogers’ hair. The wolf could probably taste the blood still on Bucky’s tongue but he didn’t seem to mind. Bucky rolled his hips down, gasping sharply at the hot frisson of want that shot through him. 

“These clothes need to come off _now_ ,” Rogers growled, already fumbling with Bucky’s jeans. Between the two of them they managed to shed their clothes, tossing them haphazardly across the room. Bucky settled back into Rogers’ lap, rocking their hips together, fingers digging into the larger man’s shoulders. It was rushed and chaotic, both of them far too amped up to do anything fancy. Rogers’ calloused palm wrapped around their lengths and Bucky nearly whined at the first stroke. 

Bucky surged forward to kiss Rogers, his nails surely digging furrows into the other’s back. “Taste so good,” he panted. “You’re so good to me.” He rocked his hips alongside Rogers’, both of them rushing towards their release.

The growl Rogers gave was animalistic and only served to make Bucky feel even hotter. “You’re _mine_. Gotta take care of you,” he muttered, free arm curling around Bucky’s waist to hold him tighter. After that it was only a couple of minutes before they’d both finished within seconds of one another.

Slumping forward against the wolf, Bucky asked, “Good?”, feeling more than a little worn out himself.

Rogers rumbled slightly, sinking bank onto the pillows and pulling Bucky with him. “ _Definitely_ wouldn’t mind doing that again.”

Bucky chuckled, starfishing himself over Rogers’ chest happily. “That can be arranged.”

* * *

Though Rogers had certainly made it clear that Bucky could bite him whenever the vampire wanted, Bucky was reluctant to take advantage of that. For one he didn’t want to weaken Rogers by taking too much or doing so too often. For another he wanted to keep some sort of distinction between his home life and what he did when he went into town. Every once in a while during sex would be alright, but Bucky decided to still keep his main source of energy to his weekly outings. 

One such summer night, Bucky shot a text message to the wolf to let him know he was on his way back to the Farm. The wolf was always better prepared, as Bucky had found. Every so often he’d shown up unexpectedly to see Rogers’ hackles still raised (sometimes literally) from the scent of vampire that preceded him. It was instinctual, Rogers simply protecting his territory, but Bucky couldn’t completely muffle the small sting whenever he was so poignantly reminded of the divide between them.

By the time the vampire had reached the cabin there still had been no answering text. Normally Rogers could smell him coming a mile away and would already be at the door; there was no sign of the wolf. Had something happened to him? “Rogers?" Bucky called. He heard low rumbling, like Rogers was talking to someone, and curiosity got the better of him. Bucky pushed inside the house, following the noise and heading into the living room. "Oh-" He froze, staring wide-eyed at the little black puppy splayed on the floor, Rogers crouched down and talking to it sternly like it was another human. 

Rogers glanced up at Bucky, looking both sheepish and a little bit frazzled. “Hey…. Found this little guy on the porch with a note,” he said by way of explanation, attention turning back to where he was tugging what looked like a mauled Xbox controller out of the pup’s mouth. “This is _not_ a chew toy,” he then muttered to the puppy, finger out and pointing disciplinarily. The tiny thing didn’t seem to understand, tongue lolling out happily to lick at Rogers’ hand. Bucky didn’t miss the repressed twitch the action brought to the werewolf’s lips. 

Coming further into the room, Bucky settled on a nearby chair, eyes stuck on the tiny ball of fur. Both of the men had a large soft spot for animals, and the vampire was already certain they would end up keeping the thing. Just as Bucky was going to ask what Rogers had named it, a thought occurred to him as his eyes flicked between Rogers and the puppy. It still only smelled like werewolf in the room, no scent of plain old dog. It was a very slight difference but one Bucky had definitely come to know. He stiffened slightly, near imperceptibly. "Is that... a puppy, or a _baby_?" he asked.

With a sigh, Rogers sat back on his heels, both of them watching the pup roll over and start trying to attack one of Blackie’s spare toys. “It’s a werewolf,” Rogers admitted. “True-born, from the looks of it.” He shook his head, running a hand over his face. “Got no idea who or where the parents are. Note just said he needed someone to take care of him.”

Bucky blinked a few times. “Well shit.” Rogers grunted in agreement. “What are we gonna do?”

The wolf threw him a look. “We don’t have much of a choice, Buck. It’s not like we can leave him with humans, and they don’t exactly have supernatural orphanages yet.”

Logically, yes, Bucky knew that. It made sense. But then that meant that the only other option was _keeping_ it. Him. A _baby_. His brain was stalling on that aspect. It wasn’t that he didn’t like kids- no, Bucky adored them, and once upon a time he’d dreamed of having a big family of his own. However, he’d soundly and firmly given up on that idea a long time ago. What the hell did he actually know about raising a kid- let alone a baby werewolf? He must have looked more than a little apprehensive because Rogers looked up at him, fully away from the tiny wolf for the first time since Bucky had arrived. 

“We’ll be fine. How hard can it be?” Rogers reasoned. Bucky cast a pointed look at the mutilated game controller abandoned on the floor, the scattered mess of toys and blankets spread over the living room. At least Rogers had managed to keep any dangerous tools out of reach. “Okay, well, yea, there are gonna be some set-backs,” the wolf continued, wincing as the pup decided to use his hand as a toy next. “But what else can we do?”

Bucky exhaled slowly, more of a habit at this point than a need for oxygen. “No, no, you’re right. I just… Christ, this was not what I expected to come home to,” he said around a choked laugh.

“You’re tellin’ me,” Rogers muttered.

The pup toppled over again with the force of his own biting and tugging, and as he stood back up he finally seemed to take notice of Bucky. Walking over on paws too big for his feet, the pup sat down in front of Bucky with his head cocked. “Hey little guy,” Bucky murmured, reaching out a hand for the wolf to smell, hoping somewhat belatedly that it didn’t have some sort of ingrained _attack_ response to vampires. Nothing of the sort happened, though. He sniffed at Bucky’s hand, looked up at him, looked back at Rogers- and then shifted.

It startled Bucky into flinching backwards, the sudden and somewhat violent-looking twisting of the furry body coming as a surprise. Within seconds there sat a chubby toddler, a year old at most, with a dusting of dirty blond hair and dark blue eyes. He babbled at Bucky, grin toothless and bright, and reached up towards the vampire. Bucky didn’t even think twice, simply reaching down to pick up the baby, an answering smile spreading automatically across his own face. The kid settled in his lap and began touching Bucky’s hands and arms, seemingly fascinated at the temperature difference between them. 

When Bucky looked up a moment later, it was to see Rogers with an unbearably soft look on his face, one that only Bucky ever got to see. Though the brunet wanted to roll his eyes and make a joke about what a sap the older wolf was being, it would have been a little bit hypocritical. “We’re gonna need to pick a name,” Bucky pointed out, wrapping an arm around the kid’s waist to steady him. 

Rogers stared for a moment at their newest addition to the household, clearly deep in thought. “You know…” he started slowly, a twist to his lips. “My Ma once told me she almost named me Connor, since she’d always loved the name.” The blond met Bucky’s gaze, his face an odd mix of amusement and resignation. “It comes from the Gaelic word for ‘lover of wolves’.”

“Oh god, that’s terrible. We can’t do that,” Bucky groaned. “What do you think, kid, should we go with your Pa’s awful, ridiculous name? Connor?”

Lo and behold, the baby’s head popped up, babbling coming out in an endless stream. He smiled, patting his uncoordinated hand onto Bucky’s cheek. “I guess that’s a yes,” Rogers said, sounding a little too smug for the vampire’s liking. Bucky barely resisted sticking his tongue out at the other man. “Do you wanna give him a middle name?” It sounded almost like a peace offering, in Bucky’s humble opinion.

Bucky hummed, running a hand lightly across the fuzzy hair on top of Connor’s head. He ran a few names through his mind, ones he’d always liked, or ones that had some sort of meaning behind them. Some didn’t blend well with Connor, others didn’t seem to quite fit. The name didn’t _have_ to mean something, but it would have been nice. “How about Nathaniel?” he finally offered. “It’s Hebrew, for ‘a gift’.” His voice had gone softer, more than a little regretful for the past he’d had to leave behind. 

There was that unbearably soft look again on Rogers’ face. “Connor Nathaniel. I like it,” he said quietly, eyes dancing. Bucky nodded, letting Connor wrap a hand around his finger. Even just having Rogers had felt like more than Bucky ever deserved. Now that they had a family, a _kid_ \-- despite the fact that he didn’t sleep anymore, Bucky wasn’t sure this wasn’t all just a dream.

“Hey Connor. Welcome home.”

* * *

Rogers set to making a crib within two days. For now they had decided to form a nest of blankets on the guest bed, and Bucky spent most of the night watching over Connor. It wasn’t much different than how he normally spent the nights- book in hand or TV on low, occasionally staring out the windows at the night sky. Rogers had joked how nice it was to have a live-in night nanny- until Bucky dumped half of the flour he’d been measuring out for pancakes right on top of the werewolf’s head. Connor found that _hilarious_ , and decided to throw his smashed vegetables at Rogers too, which _Bucky_ thought was hilarious. The only one not amused was Rogers, understandably. 

For the most part Bucky regretted absolutely nothing. Connor was a sweetheart, babbling away happily at all hours of the day, eager to touch and play with every new thing that came his way. In Bucky’s opinion, the cutest thing that the kid did was his tiny howls, which he did in either form. Every once in a while Bucky would hear a small _awooo_ from the bedroom, announcing the kid had woken up from his nap. And, every once in a blue moon, he could hear an answering soft _awoo_ from Rogers when the man went to get Connor. The older werewolf would adamantly deny it if Bucky asked him- but the vampire knew. 

However, as probably anyone could have predicted, taking care of a baby that was _also_ a werewolf came with its own set of extreme difficulties. Stressful. Downright infuriating at times. Though the kid had to be ten months old at the most, Connor seemed to have no trouble crawling, walking, and sometimes _running_ away from both of his parents. He was a master escape artist, as it turned out. Even after Rogers had thrown together a crib- one which Bucky had adored, while Rogers was already muttering about improvements for the next one- Connor always found new ways to get out of it. Without fail. 

There were chew marks on everything, the toy bin was upended every damn day, and poor Blackie spent half his time giving the two parents doleful looks as Connor attacked his toys or food dish. Not to mention, Rogers had started yet another project of adding a guest room to the house, since Connor had taken the original one over. For someone who didn’t actually need to sleep, Bucky found himself feeling utterly exhausted every day. He wondered how the hell his mother had raised four kids and not lost her mind. 

Bucky groaned and slumped down onto the bed next to Rogers. The wolf grumbled in his sleep, but shifted to pull Bucky in closer. That sent a smile flickering over Bucky’s face, and he got comfortable, arranging himself against the furnace known as his lover. He hadn’t been there for more than five minutes, comfortably drifting and letting the tension leave his body- when a soft howl sounded from the room next door. He couldn’t hold back his groan. Rogers pointedly didn’t open his eyes but Bucky knew the bastard was awake. 

Another cry came and Bucky cursed as he detangled himself from the bed and marched over to Connor’s room. “No, no fucking _awoo_. It’s bedtime, goddamnit,” Bucky muttered. Connor didn’t seem to care, grinning as Bucky came into view. He babbled at the vampire and reached for him. Bucky sighed- the kid had him wrapped around his little finger. Lifting Connor out of the crib he wrapped him in his favorite blanket and resigned himself to walking laps around the house until Connor was asleep again.

It took nearly an hour of Bucky pacing and humming and softly talking, but finally Connor nodded off against his shoulder. With a sigh Bucky retreated to the bedrooms and put Connor back into his crib. He crept as quietly as he could out of the room to avoid ruining the hard work… but didn’t make any effort to avoid waking Rogers. “Y’know, even though I don’t sleep, doesn’t mean you can’t get up sometimes,” he groused, not completely serious, as he climbed back into bed.

Rogers groaned sleepily, throwing an arm over Bucky and bundling him into his side. “But that’s why I have my live-in nocturnal nanny,” he mumbled. 

“Keep that up and I’m not gonna suck your dick for a week,” Bucky hissed. 

“Like you’d last that long,” Rogers countered.

The fucker wasn’t even totally wrong. “Go the fuck to sleep,” Bucky muttered, shoving himself closer to wrap around Rogers. 

A half-asleep chuckle was all he got before Rogers’ breath evened out. Bucky closed his eyes, listening to his lover’s heartbeat, ready to get some rest of his own. 

_Awooo?_

“Mother fucker.”

* * *

In the months after Connor showed up, Bucky let Rogers go ahead on the raids without him, since someone had to watch over the kid. He didn’t mind doing it. Living quietly was far preferable to him, and while it was exhausting he absolutely adored taking care of Connor. The young wolf was sweet, energetic, and curious about every single thing. Bucky constantly had to chase after him to make sure he didn’t get his hands on a power tool or something like that. Even Blackie had taken a liking to him and often followed the toddler from room to room like a guard dog. 

Rogers started to teach the kid about various ‘all things werewolf’, shifting himself to demonstrate various skills or things he could do in wolf form. God only knew how much a kid no more than 14 months old was picking up, but he seemed to enjoy the time spent with his Pa anyway. Bucky often sat at the window and watched them sprint around the backyard together, and tried not to feel as if he was missing out on a big part of Connor’s life. Especially when all of the howling lessons (were they actual conversations? Bucky wasn’t sure) started. 

The most fascinating part was the fact that, technically, they were different kinds of werewolves. Bucky could already see differences in the two wolves- while Rogers was bipedal, Connor could run just as well on two legs as four. The shape of their face was slightly different, as was the coloring of their coats. But the biggest difference was the full moon- according to Rogers, since Connor was a true-born wolf, the full moon didn’t force him into a shift. In fact, shifting seemed to be incredibly easy in general for Connor, as he showed no sign of pain and often shifted multiple times within an hour. Even Rogers didn’t know too much about true-borns as a whole. 

On one such night Rogers carried a tuckered out Connor back inside for dinner, both of them wearing large grins. “You better not have been terrorizing the bears again, Rogers,” Bucky said, remembering the last time he’d seen the large wolf excitedly approaching a very startled black bear. 

“Nah,” Rogers said, plunking Connor down in his high chair. “We were tracking some rabbits. Didn’t catch any, since this one just got excited and ran at them.”

Bucky shook his head with a grin. “Oh good, just terrorizing the local rabbits then.” He set Connor’s collection of snacks- apple sauce, cereal, cut up strawberries- on the high chair table and winced at the burn in his throat. Taking care of a toddler had changed his feeding schedule, so he’d been pushing off going out to town more and more. It had definitely been at least a week since he had last done a full feeding and he was certainly feeling it now.

Of course Rogers noticed, narrowing his eyes. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” Bucky immediately replied. The blond stared at him, kept staring at him, even as he held out a spoonful of applesauce for Connor. “Really, I’m fine,” Bucky continued protesting. 

Rogers studied Bucky’s face for a moment before he raised an eyebrow. “When’s the last time you drank?” he asked flatly. 

Surprised, Bucky stammered, “I- last week, I think. But it’s fine, I don’t have to-”

“Bucky,” Rogers scolded, pushing cheerios closer to Connor’s sticky fingers. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

“Because I’m  _ fine _ !” he said. “Connor sometimes wakes up upset in the middle of the night, and I didn’t want to leave it all on you, and-”

Standing up, Rogers gripped Bucky’s shoulders, giving him a little shake. “You’re always yelling at me to take care of myself, but you have to do that too, Buck.” He sounded like a disappointed parent, and Buvky had the fleeting hysterical thought that Rogers was already adapting to being around Connor. “C’mon, go. Tonight. We’ll be fine.”

Bucky opened his mouth to retort that Rogers couldn’t tell him what to do, but the werewolf smacked a palm over his mouth. “I’m serious. Get outta here,” Rogers said quietly.

Even though he wanted to argue more just for the sake of it, Bucky knew that Rogers was right. He sighed before nodding. “Fine. I’ll be back before Connor gets up in the morning.” Bucky kissed the self-satisfied smile off of Rogers’ face, bent to kiss the top of Connor’s head, and then headed out the door. On the run to the town he could definitely feel that he was weaker than normal, and he felt exhausted and a little uncoordinated. Damn Rogers for being right.

The sun had just started to set by the time he arrived and he immediately started looking for someone suitable. After about ten or so minutes he found a man outside of his car behind an old-looking store, digging through his wallet. Bucky crept silently up behind him, let the man’s mind fall into a muddled haze, and quickly sank his teeth in. Only… as soon as the blood touched his lips Bucky felt the hunger surge through him, tearing through his usual control, halting all thoughts other than  _ feed _ and  _ take.  _ He was unable to stop, couldn’t pull himself away, just kept drinking and  _ drinking _ . He hadn’t felt this out of control since HYDRA.

Minutes passed before Bucky could let go of the man, and he slumped to the ground, cold and pale. _Oh god_ . Bucky stared with wide eyes at the human- at the _body_ \- before him. He’d gone too far, drank too much, gotten carried away…. He felt paralyzed by it. Something like this hadn’t happened since he’d first left HYDRA, and now years later when he’d thought he’d gotten control over it, he’d done it again. A shaky hand covered his mouth as he started to panic. It was made worse by the blood he could feel was still on his lips and he scrubbed violently at his face to get it off. _What the fuck do I do?_

If he left the body here it would only be found and raise more questions. Especially because it had been _exsanguinated_ . There would immediately be a vampire hunt through the entire tate. Rogers and Bucky had been hiding from the Accords for too long to be caught due to some careless mistake of Bucky’s. But the guy didn’t deserve to just _disappear_. What if he had family waiting for him? The thought only made Bucky shake more as he stood rooted in place.

_Rogers will know what to do_. The thought came to him suddenly, and while it brought his panic down to a simmer at the thought of having someone else to help him… the idea of bringing someone he’d killed back home to his partner made Bucky want to throw himself off the nearest cliff. The tension built inside of him as he stared at the body. The longer he stayed there the more likely it was that someone would accidentally walk by and see the scene- which was probably the worst possible outcome. With a choked exhale, Bucky picked up the body and gently put it on his shoulder. He didn’t have much of a choice- he’d have to go back to the Farm.

The run back home seemed to pass by quicker than normal, like the world just knew how much Bucky was dreading it. As he neared the yard he slowed to a walk. Just a few feet from the front porch he gently set the dead man on the ground and closed his eyes to gather his courage. He could do this. Even if it meant leaving Rogers and Connor to protect them… he would do it. The front door opening startled him and his eyes snapped open to see Rogers crossing the lawn. “Buck? What are you doing?” The vampire didn’t answer at first, voice stuck in his throat like a clogged drain. Rogers stared at the scene and Bucky could practically hear him putting the pieces together. 

"It was an accident..." Bucky whispered, glancing at the body on the ground between them. "I didn't... I just didn't realize how hungry I was and...." He swallowed hard, teeth digging into his lip. "I always try to take just enough, only a little bit, but...." Blinking hard, Bucky glanced up at Rogers before looking quickly away, worried about what he'd find there.

This was the first time Bucky had killed someone out of combat in front of the wolf. Bucky _knew_ that Rogers still had reservations about vampires as a whole; Bucky was a special exception. It had taken Rogers weeks to feel more comfortable around Bucky- and this is what it got him. “I’m sorry, I didn’t know what else to do with him,” he continued. 

For a terrifying moment Rogers didn’t say anything, and Bucky braced himself for the worst. Then the wolf was pulling him into a hug and Bucky was too shocked to resist. “It’s alright, Buck. We’ll handle it. I know you didn’t mean to.” Rogers squeezed him tightly, pressed a kiss to his temple.

Bucky gaped for a moment before slowly wrapping his arms around Rogers. “But-” he protested, thinking maybe Rogers hadn’t realized the guy was fucking _dead_.

“I’d be a hypocrite if I judged you for this,” he murmured into Bucky’s hair. “You’re a good person, Bucky.” 

Though he couldn’t truly cry anymore, Bucky gave a strangled gasp and buried his face into Rogers’ shoulder. “I’m sorry,” he repeated. “I’m sorry.” He couldn’t tell if it was better, or somehow so much worse, that Rogers had simply accepted what had happened. Of course Bucky was floored with relief at not being told to leave… but did he deserve that? Or maybe Rogers was just calming him down before sending him away later.

As if he was able to sense the vampire’s spiraling thoughts, Rogers squeezed him tighter for another moment before letting go, hands resting on Bucky’s shoulders. “Go inside and get some rest. Connor’s already asleep. I’ll take care of it.” Bucky stared at him, still in a state of shock, and Rogers repeated more firmly, “Go inside.”

With a nod Bucky turned and went into the house, sinking down onto the couch. He had no idea what Rogers planned to do with the body, or how he planned on making this go away. Bucky felt like he should be helping… but what could he do? Hell, Bucky wasn’t even sure he could manage to dial a phone right now. All of this was his fault in the first place. 

He didn’t know how much time had passed once Rogers came back inside. The wolf was quiet as he sat next to Bucky, a warm hand settling on his back. “Everything’s fine. No one will know anything, and the cops will take it from here.” Bucky nodded as he stared at the floor. “Are you alright?”

What a fuckin’ question. After another moment Bucky shook his head. All he could see in his mind was the scene replaying, feel the thirst as it overwhelmed him, see the blood dripping down his fingers and wrist. He roughly scrubbed his palms on his pants to get the phantom feeling away. 

Rogers wrapped a hand around Bucky’s. “It’s gonna be okay Buck. I know you didn’t do it on purpose. We’ve all made mistakes before.”

“I didn’t want to kill anyone else,” Bucky said quietly. “Not innocent people, at least. I was careful, I tried-” He broke off, squeezing Rogers’ hand. “I didn’t want to be like them.” He didn’t have to elaborate for Rogers to know who he was talking about.

“You’re _not_ ,” the blond responded, wrapping an arm around Bucky’s shoulder to pull him closer. “It was an accident.” Bucky stayed silent. A moment passed Rogers sighed. When he spoke, his voice was tight and controlled. “At least with you, there was a body. People could have closure. When I lose control… it’s awful. And every single time, I hate everything about this, about what I am. But then something good comes along, like you or Connor, and I think maybe all this shit is worth it.”

It was alarmingly vulnerable and Bucky knew it probably hadn’t been easy for the other man to say. Bucky didn’t have an answer for it, although now pain over what Rogers had been through too now washed over him. He just pressed himself further into the wolf’s side. Rogers hummed like he knew what Bucky was trying to say. “Maybe for a short while you just stick to feeding from me, just a bit every couple of days,” he offered.

Logically Bucky knew Rogers could take care of himself and would be able to control Bucky if he got a little overzealous. And it wasn’t like both of them had found a certain pleasure in the act the few times they’d done it. However another part of him was terrified of using Rogers, of taking it too far, of treating the wolf like just another victim. It was especially hard to think about tonight right after such a slip of control. “Maybe,” he finally said, shrugging under Rogers’ arm. 

They sat there for a time, just pressed together, both of them preferring the silent company to trying to talk out things like emotions or fears. It did help in a way since it gave Bucky time to calm down. He wouldn’t forget this for a long time, no, but with a little bit of distance he might just be able to come to terms with it. Eventually. Nearing one in the morning, Rogers shifted. “I think laying down might be more comfortable, did you want to come to bed?”

“I think I’ll stay out here for a bit,” Bucky responded. “Maybe do something to take my mind off of things.”

Though he looked a little doubtful, Rogers nodded. “Alright. Well, get me if you need me.”

A shaky smile spread over Bucky’s face as he nodded back. “Roger that.” The blond scoffed, running his hand through Bucky’s hair once more before retreating to the bedroom. The living room was dark and quiet and Bucky relaxed against the back of the couch with his head in his hands. He didn’t have very long to himself, however. 

Bucky heard Connor coming down the short hallway before he saw him, and though he sighed at the fact that the little wolf was up so late, he turned to the toddler with a soft smile. The kid looked sleepy, a little upset. His favorite blanket- hand picked by both Rogers and him, and covered in the smells of their house- dragged behind him. It was too damn adorable and Bucky already had his arms out as soon as Connor looked in his direction.

The vampire gave Connor a little tug to help him onto the couch, heart swelling at the sweet noise he made as he settled into Bucky’s lap. Both arms circled around the kid, pulling him in to lean against Bucky’s torso and snuggle into his chest. Bucky dropped a kiss on his head, tightening his arms as he buried his nose in soft brown hair, feeling something shaky inside of him finally settle a bit. He didn’t know what he had done to deserve something so soft and pure, but he’d hold onto it with both hands for as long as he could. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The line "Not just someone. Just you, it’ll be good if it’s you." is one of Adi's lovely creations and I adored it to death so I had to put it in here.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey so fun fact, I got the news that my younger sister has COVID while writing this, so this chapter is not as fully completed as it could be. I just needed to finish enough to publish this story. I apologize in advance for the choppy nature of it.
> 
> Warning for more blood and sexy times.
> 
> Lovely art by MsPooslie!

As the year drew towards its end Bucky almost couldn’t believe how quickly Connor was growing. He was figuring out ways to outsmart his parents every damn day, and seemed to need new clothes every couple of weeks. It was especially odd for Bucky- and probably Rogers, too- as someone who didn’t really age anymore, or at least not in any quickly visible way. It was a stark reminder that life does go on, whether you’re ready for it or not, whether you want it to or not.

As he watched Connor play with his trucks, complete with crashes and thrown vehicles being thrown everywhere, Bucky couldn't help but smile to himself. This hadn't been the family he'd envisioned all those years ago as a kid. He couldn't have envisioned any of the things happening that did. But, as Rogers had once said, sometimes the good things make all the shit worth it. 

"Alright, c'mon Buddy, let's get you some lunch," Bucky said as he walked over to pick Connor up. The kid made a displeased noise at being taken away from his toys. 

"Fuck."

Bucky did a double take, almost looking around the room for the source of the word. He  _ had  _ to have misheard. He turned wide eyes on his son.

"Fuck!" Connor yelled again, pointing towards his toys.

For a moment all the vampire could do was stare. The elated part of him that realized this was his son's first word was a little overwhelmed by the part that realized that his first word was  _ fuck _ .

"You've gotta be fucking kidding me," Bucky breathed, before hissing in a breath in frustration at himself. He couldn't really be surprised, could he, between his and Rogers' mouths? "Hey, honey?" he yelled. Even though Rogers was out back working on the new addition he'd surely hear him.

A minute later Rogers came in, looking mildly concerned. "What's wrong?" Bucky took a moment to note how good he looked in his jeans and sweaty shirt, before bringing himself back to task.

Gesturing to Connor, Bucky said, "Your son said his first word."

Rogers' face lit up with exuberant surprise before he paused, concern entering his expression. "He's only 'my' son when he did something wrong," he said, eyes flicking between Bucky and Connor.

Bucky raised his eyebrows, then turned to the toddler. "Connor, what was that? What did you say?"

Connor, grinning, proudly proclaimed "FUCK!"

At first Rogers choked- and then burst into laughter. "You're fucking kidding," he gasped, looking near tears.

Working hard to keep his annoyed face in place despite the wolf dying of laughter, Bucky retorted, "That's exactly why his first word is f- is  _ that _ !"

"So?" Rogers asked between snickers. "He'd learn it eventually."

With a noise of frustration Bucky threw up his hand. "Yea, sure, but we can't have our kid running around and screaming profanities when he’s barely two years old!" Not that there was anyone else around to hear him anyway, but it just set a bad example in general.

Rogers shrugged. "Eh," he said, coming over to take Connor out of Bucky's arm. "I think it shows character."

Bucky groaned, scrubbing a hand down his face. "We're gonna raise such a potty mouth."

“Wouldn’t expect anything less,” the blond said saccharinely, tapping Connor on the nose as they walked to the kitchen.

* * *

Now that Connor was getting older and far more adventurous, private time for the couple was harder to come by. During the day it was nearly impossible, as the young wolf was always trying to show his parents something or tag along on whatever they were doing. The toddler was getting better at sleeping through the night but it wasn’t always a guarantee. Although Bucky had to admit that having Connor walk in and shove himself between Rogers and himself was becoming a highlight of his nights. 

However, once Connor had been out into bed, he could usually sleep through at least a few hours. So Bucky and Rogers had to make the most of it. They’d been grinding and necking for what seemed like ages, neither in a hurry to speed things up, merely enjoying each other’s bodies. The heat rolling off of Rogers was the perfect foil for the chill that emanated from Bucky’s skin as they tangled with each other, the only sounds the occasional low moan or the wet suction of lips.

“C’mon then,” the wolf scooted closer to him, legs entangled as he gave a slow roll of his hips. “Do it, bite me. Make me feel it.”

Those words may have been some of the only ones capable of distracting him from sucking dark marks into the pale skin of Rogers’ neck. As they sunk into Bucky’s brain, the vampire stared at his lover, not quite wide-eyed but getting close. Bucky feeding from Rogers during sex was practically common place now- they did it semi-regularly, and the wolf seemed to enjoy it each and every time. Bucky sure as hell did, wolf blood heating him up like no other, leaving him feeling warm and strong. But it was usually small nips to the wrist, or on one memorable occasion to the inside of Rogers’ thigh. But, Bucky had been marking up his neck, a place they’d never tried before….

Eyes glued to that expanse of skin, Bucky said, “You sure?” It wasn’t as if Bucky didn’t want to do it; it was quite the opposite, and his fangs were already descending just thinking about it. It felt as natural as breathing to him, going for the wrist and the leg a special, conscious choice. But Bucky wanted to be sure that Rogers wouldn’t have second thoughts and try to yank away mid-bite; Bucky wasn’t sure how he would react to that. His instincts could be just as primal as the wolf’s sometimes.

Rogers nodded and Bucky was sure his eyes must have been bright red in anticipation. He wasn’t even that thirsty, but he had been looking forward to this even subconsciously for a long time. Eyes hardly leaving Rogers’ throat, Bucky’s hands smoothed soothing lines up and down the blond’s torso as he pulled him even closer. Bending his head, Bucky softly kissed Rogers’ neck, pulse thrumming against his lips. It was heady and Bucky bit into his lip for a moment to stay centered. 

Hands coming up to bracket Rogers’ shoulders to hold him in place, Bucky started to suck another mark onto the wolf’s skin, right where the pulse was most visible. “Just relax, trust me….” he whispered. Rogers exhaled slowly, practically radiating both anticipation and apprehension. After another moment to let his partner settle, Bucky finally let his fangs slide in, blood flooding his mouth as he moaned aloud. His hips never stopped rocking against Rogers’, fingers digging into the other’s back as his tongue brushed gently against the abused skin.

Rogers let out an honest to god whine, fingers digging into Bucky’s hips as his eyes fluttered shut. Bucky moaned in response as he felt the flush of the blood heat his cheeks. He didn’t stay more than ten or so seconds, just long enough for Rogers to get a good feel for it, and for Bucky’s eyes to tint crimson. “How was that,” Bucky murmured, kissing the wound gently. He was practically humming with energy. Rogers suddenly surged up and Bucky was bounced back onto the mattress.

Before the vampire could even right himself Rogers was on top of him, heated body draping over his and mouth finding Bucky’s. With a small noise Bucky melted into the kiss, hands coming up to clutch at Rogers’ wide shoulders. Likewise Bucky could feel sharp fingers digging into his sides, and Rogers’ teeth were already nipping firmly at the brunet’s lips. Stifling a laugh at the wolf’s excitable (and possessive) nature, Bucky shoved at the broad chest pinning him down. “Hold on– just lemme get my clothes off– sweetheart, do not rip these–” he managed to get out between kisses. 

It took a little more cajoling, but with a groan Rogers finally sat up enough to strip off their shirts, before standing up to do the same to their pants. In no time they were both naked and on top of each other once more. Bucky moaned into Rogers’ mouth, rolling his hips eagerly up against the wolf’s. Their erections slid together enticingly and ramped the heat up in the room. Raking his fingers down Rogers’ back Bucky bit the blond’s lip, bringing a hint of blood to the surface. “Want you inside me. Now,” he demanded. 

With a quiet growl Rogers gave him one last hard kiss before leaning over to find lube. Bucky stretched out on the bed, arching his back as he opened his legs wider. His efforts were rewarded by the downright dark look the wolf gave him, pupils blown wide. Settling down between Bucky’s legs, Rogers gave each thigh a series of kisses, always unable to resist them. All of the hectic energy from before slowly abated. Rogers prepped him with slow, firm fingers, each stroke feeling more like a caress than anything else. It was only when Bucky couldn’t possibly be any more ready that Rogers straddled Bucky again, a hand coming to stroke the vampire’s cheek. Bucky could only smile softly- fighting off a lump in his throat- and reach up to cover the hand with his own. He whispered, “I love you.”

Rogers smiled, looking a bit shaky himself, and leaned down to cover Bucky’s lips with his own as he pushed in. “I love you,” he murmured, elbows planted on the bed so that he could lie as close as possible to the vampire. The rolls of his hips were strong and deep, but slower than the punishing pace the two so often partook in. Rogers moved like he wanted every single moment to count, and all Bucky could do was hitch his legs up around the wolf’s waist and hold on as tight as he could. And when they came, one within seconds of the other, they stayed wrapped up in one another for as long as they could stand. 

* * *

Even with the days starting to get colder- a fact that Bucky lamented every other minute- nothing seemed to dampen Connor’s enthusiasm. He would run around the yard for hours if he was allowed to and often came back inside covered in leaves, mud, or worse. Bucky was content to watch from inside the house or sometimes out on the porch. But today Rogers had insisted he come outside with them, so here the vampire was, standing out in the yard with his arms crossed tightly around him. Just because the cold didn’t really affect him the same anymore didn’t mean he liked it.

Rogers wasn’t being sneaky. The vampire could see his partner crawling through the snow, very obviously stalking him. Bucky raised an eyebrow at the enormous wolf, slightly disapproving, slightly amused. Being tackled for one reason or another was something Bucky had certainly become accustomed to- whether it was by an ornery human-shaped Rogers or a playful wolf-shaped Rogers. Still, that didn’t mean he always enjoyed it, especially when the ground was covered in cold and wet snow. Sighing, he said, “Rogers, c’mon, not in the snow. I don’t wanna have to-”

He was interrupted by an excited yelp followed immediately by a mass of wet fur as Connor, hiding behind Rogers, threw himself bodily at the vampire. Bucky went down into the snow with a poorly concealed groan, both at the weight of the small (but dense) wolf sitting on his chest and the freezing cold seeping into his jeans. Connor was all enthusiasm, wiggling and panting, even licking Bucky’s cheek. Apparently, Rogers had been teaching their son to hunt. A long, explosive, dramatic sigh left the brunet.  _ Fucking werewolves _ .

[Art by MsPooslie]

Still, he couldn’t resist when Connor looked so proud of his take-down. “You got me buddy, that was pretty good,” Bucky said, giving Connor a kiss on his forehead. He turned his head to glare at Rogers next, but the bastard was already turning around to head back into the nice, warm,  _ dry _ house.

Suddenly the weight on his chest was a little less as Connor shifted back into his human form. “Da!” he cried, “Got you!” 

“Yea, sweetie, you did. That was some good hunting,” Bucky dutifully replied. Scooping up the now naked two year old he started bringing him back into the house. “But your Da is all wet and cold now, so how about we go inside?” Sometimes Bucky was left feeling like the spoilsport, and while it wasn’t like Rogers didn’t discipline Connor himself, Bucky just happened to be the more responsible one most of the time. Luckily Connor didn’t seem to mind since he was generally fine with following a few rules. 

Connor clapped excitedly but luckily didn’t struggle as Bucky carted him inside. “Do you want help with some clothes?” he asked as he set the kid down in the living room.

“Uh uh,” he replied, taking off for his bedroom. God only knew what the kid would grab.

With a sigh, Bucky went to his own bedroom to change into new clothes. Rogers was already dressed and looked up at the brunet with a shit-eating grin from where he was relaxing on the mattress. “He’s learning quick, huh?”

Bucky just stuck his tongue out at Rogers. He was probably spending too much time with the toddler. Then again, Rogers chuckled, so he probably was too. Bucky quickly changed out of his wet clothes into dry sweats and a t-shirt and flopped onto the bed next to the werewolf. Rogers leaned over to smack an obnoxious kiss to the side of Bucky’s head, to which Bucky answered with an eye-roll and a light shove. He wasn’t really mad- he just had to figure out a way to get back at Rogers. 

Connor suddenly banged through the door, wearing his favorite Spiderman pajama top… and no pants. “Buddy, where are your pants?” Bucky asked exasperatedly. He should have just gone with the kid in the first place.

“Pants is… trap!” he cried, like he thought it should have been obvious. Bucky had a split second of confusion as to where Connor had learned that association- before heavily sighing and turning to Rogers. Who, in fact, was only wearing boxers. The werewolf was notorious for walking around with various items of clothing missing,  _ especially _ in the summer. His excuse was that he got too hot- but that certainly wouldn’t have been the issue currently in the early winter.

Putting an innocent face on, Rogers protested, “What? The kid’s got a good point.” Connor whooped in excitement and jumped up on the bed with them, tumbling around in the blankets. 

Bucky sighed quietly before grabbing a pillow to join in with a smile. Connor was learning fast, but was he learning  _ helpful _ things? It would all come in time.

* * *

Another day, another fucking HYDRA base. Rogers had stayed home this time, to no little reluctance, leaving Bucky with a small unit of his wolves to take down the relatively small cell. It had been long enough now that most of the wolves trusted Bucky, at least to a certain extent, and would follow his lead in a fight. Someone needed to watch Connor, after all, and Bucky had been  _ itching  _ to run and bite. The guilt stayed quiet if he used it to wreak havoc on those who had made him this way. 

The building was higher-staffed than expected, but the human guards and scientists were no match for the gang of supernaturals. The eager chuckles and growls of the werewolves rumbled around him where they stood at the tree-line. In the dim light of the evening the wolves surrounded the building while Bucky found a way in, leaving a door open for the pack to enter behind him. All in all, it only took about twenty minutes to find and subdue all of the goons inside. Some of the subduing was bloodier than the rest; the wolves nipped at each other playfully with the success. 

Letting the pack be for now, Bucky went to sweep the base for any lingering traps or enemies. On his lap to double check the rest of the building, Bucky came across a hidden entrance he hadn’t noticed before. Signified only by the slight draft that came from the bottom of the panel set into the wall, the door was clearly only for those important enough to know where it was. Bucky forced it open to find a set of ominous, dimly lit stairs headed down.  _ Great. Nothing good ever comes out of a hidden basement. _

The vampire descended down the stairs, on guard in case of any lingering assailants. All was quiet, stiflingly so, in the way that came from fear and death. The smells, the flickering lights, the aura of pain that had seemingly seeped into the concrete walls- it was all Bucky could do to keep himself from trembling. This was a  _ lab _ . A place for experiments, sacrifices, rituals… even though he couldn’t truly feel the cold anymore, Bucky shuddered violently. It brought back every flash of memory of that damn lab in Azzano, and all of the ones in the decades after. He hoped he didn’t find anyone down here, or if he did… hopefully they wouldn’t still be suffering.

Heart in his throat, he continued down into the oppressive silence. He could see a table in the middle of the room, of course complete with restraints. Cages lined one wall. Glasses and containers filled with god-only-knew-what were stacked on another wall. It all made Bucky sick with dread and revulsion. At first glance, the room was empty, even of the dead. A sigh of relief left his shoulders relaxing- until a faint heartbeat and a shift of fabric caught his attention. Adrenaline shot through him and his eyes darted to the corner cage- a small bundle of fabric, an unruly mop of hair. A  _ child _ .

“Oh…” Bucky exhaled, feet bringing him closer to the opposite wall before he’d even made the decision to move. Horror at the prospect of a child being put through these horrendous things swirled inside him alongside curiosity at  _ what _ exactly had been done to them. He paused outside of the cage, ducking down to try and peer at the small… being. “Can you hear me?” he asked, trying to ascertain its condition, its awareness, its intelligence.

The fluffy head turned slightly and luminous dark eyes blinked out at him. The toddler whimpered, shrinking back, and Bucky could see small fangs- differently shaped then his own- pressing out against the child’s lips. To top it all off, just barely visible through dark locks of hair were two small horns coming out of their temples. Bucky’s mouth dropped, at a loss as to what sort of creature this little one could possibly be. Through HYDRA, he had seen many different combinations of creatures, both successful and not. Had they made a completely new species? Never had Bucky seen one with horns, almost like a demon would have. Though as far as he knew, demons didn’t exist.

The vampire shook himself out of the contemplation- first thing he needed to do was take care of the frightened child before him. “It’s alright,” he said quietly, pitching his voice low and smooth like Connor seemed to like. “I’m here to help. We’re gonna get you out of here.” Slowly, carefully, he reached to break the lock on the cage door. 

Unfortunately, the child didn’t seem to be quite old enough to understand his words. Their bottom lip trembled, and they whimpered again, shifting uneasily in the raggedy blanket they were wrapped in. Bucky hushed them, but it didn’t seem to make a difference. He reached in anyway to bundle them up in his arms. The toddler whined but did turn their face into his jacket to hide. Not for the first time, Bucky wished he was warmer to the touch, if only to offer just a little bit of comfort. “It’s okay,” the vampire murmured, continuing to try and quiet the small creature. “It’s gonna be alright.” The poor thing just trembled, feeling far too light in his arms. 

The trek back outside was uneventful, though the wolves all perked up their ears, twitched their noses, puffed up their tails at the unknown supernatural in Bucky’s arms. Their wariness wasn’t totally unfounded, but at this point Bucky was certain the kid wasn’t capable of harming anyone substantially. He waved them off, saying, “We’re done here. I’ll take care of them.” After a moment some of the older wolves nodded, slowly disbanding in groups of three or four.

“Now what am I gonna do with you?” Bucky asked quietly, a finger nudging a stray curl out of the kid’s face. They yawned, even fear seemingly unable to contend with their utter exhaustion. A twist of protectiveness and melancholy shot through the vampire’s chest as he watched the child slowly fall asleep. Bucky hoped it was because they felt safe with him, safe enough to at least calm down enough to rest, rather than losing the will to stay awake. It was the most he could ask for. 

Now all he could do was take the kid home, and hope he and Rogers could figure out what to do. He sighed, shifting the child tighter in his arms, and took off. 

It was late and Bucky was both mentally and physically drained as he finally got within sight of the farm. He was a little nervous (how could he not be?) about his husband’s reaction to Bucky bringing home another child. Although, considering how they got Connor, Rogers wouldn’t really have room to talk. Shifting the thankfully-sleeping (and really, thank god) child in his grip, Bucky gently pushed the door open to see the wolf coming in from the dining room. “Hey, babe?” he said softly. “We've got a... situation here.” 

The kid in his arms shifted with a small whine, the tiny horns showing through curly black hair. The happy look on Rogers’ face faded at Bucky’s words, then quickly morphed into one of shock as his eyes fell to the bundle in the vampire’s arms. Rogers cursed lowly and moved aside as Bucky stepped into the house. “Found them in a lab underneath the base today,” he said softly, trying to avoid waking both the sleeping toddler in his arms and the  _ other _ toddler sleeping in his room down the hall.

“Bastards,” Rogers growled softly, coming around Bucky’s shoulder to get a better look at the kid. Thankfully they remained asleep, looking for all the world like a normal child outside of the horns and the slight hint of fangs beneath their lips. There was a moment of silence as they both observed the creature, though Bucky felt nothing but concern and confusion from Rogers rather than any upset or resentment. “What are they?” he wondered. 

“Hell if I know,” Bucky murmured. “Never seen one with horns before.”

Rogers shook his head, and Bucky internally sighed when he realized he’d been hoping his husband might have had some ideas. Much of Bucky’s experience was hazy at best, unreliable at worst. Though he’d seen- and killed- many creatures, many of the memories were not complete. Or the creatures in question were one-offs- unique, unstable creations cooked up by the techs. Bucky had thought maybe the wolf would have encountered someone similar over the years. “So what are we gonna do with the little tyke?” Rogers continued, bringing Bucky’s attention back. His voice was gruff, but not angry- Bucky would say that he sounded almost knowing.

Shrugging, Bucky gave his husband a small, lopsided grin. The tiny supernatural had wrapped Bucky around their finger the moment they had gripped onto his jacket for safety. “Well… it’s not like we can just dump them at an orphanage, and... we’ve got a spare room, after all.” It wasn’t a difficult choice, and besides- Bucky wasn’t sure there was a limit to the number of kids Rogers might willingly take in. 

Though Rogers tried to look disapproving, Bucky could see the soft way he was already looking at the kid, the careful movement of his rough finger against the dull point of a horn.  _ We’re both far too easy.  _ “You know what, I think you’re right,” he replied, lips turning up. “What d’you think Connor’s gonna say?”

“I think he’ll be ecstatic,” Bucky said, a bright grin spreading automatically over his face. “They’ll be a built-in best friend for the kid. He’s always trying to take care of things- you, me, animals in the yard…. Now he’ll have a younger sibling to dote on.” Shifting the toddler slightly in his arms, Bucky was already making a list of things he’d need in order to do some doting of his own. 

Rolling his eyes, though his voice was fond, the wolf said, “I don’t know where the kid got such a big heart.” Bucky scoffed and threw a glance over at Rogers; the vampire knew  _ exactly _ from where Connor had learned so much about care and concern for others. Especially when it was to a fault.  Rogers  _ hmphed _ and threw him a look back, one that said  _ shut up _ . 

Bucky slowly started walking back towards the spare bedroom, making plans to go on a shopping run tomorrow. “We have to find someone, see if they can tell us what they are,” he called softly over his shoulder, knowing Rogers would hear him. 

“Maybe I could reach out to Banner….” Rogers murmured. 

“He’ll be ecstatic to see something new,” Bucky replied with a hint of laughter. He gently set the kid down in the bed before fetching extra blankets to build something of a nest for them. The whole time the child stayed silent, just watching him with their big dark eyes. Until suddenly… the kid blinked, and their eyes were a dusky blue- nearly the same color as Bucky’s. 

Bucky blinked heavily, wondering if it had been a trick of the light. But no- the dark irises had definitely turned a blue-gray that mirrored his own. “Shit…” he breathed, unfreezing his limbs and finishing tucking the toddler in.  _ What the hell did we get ourselves into this time? _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so, so much for reading my story! I hope you got at least a little bit of entertainment out of reading it. This was definitely one of those stories that was very much written for me and my friends.
> 
> Spoiler alert- Jaime is a baby Ubi, a type of incubus. They can shapeshift at will and can feed off of _any_ strong emotion.
> 
> If you're interested in more about the Spoop Fam, come see me and Vamp!Bucky @facemypast, or Adi and Rogers @battlesthatmatter or Connor @bloodmoonphased.
> 
> And if you want a very sad coda set long after the events of this fic, try here: https://facemypast.tumblr.com/post/188641377720/they-celebrated-one-new-century-after-another


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